


Gwen

by fat_bottomed_brii



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Happy Ending, Multi, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-17
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-11-21 07:53:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18139475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fat_bottomed_brii/pseuds/fat_bottomed_brii
Summary: John Deacon is a very shy guy who doesn't have a ton of friends to confide in, so he retreats to his diary called Gwen. He tells Gwen all his secrets, his biggest crush, his fantasies, and his frustrations, until one day it gets into the wrong hands and everything goes downhill.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i don't have a ton of things to say but there's a song reference in here and i wanna see if u guys get it. ill announce it in the next chpter. here's ur hint: it's a song from a night at the opera (very hard to spot!!) anyways enjoy uwu

_Dear Diary,_

_If that's what you even are. I got you as an early gift from my friend Elise for my 21st birthday, which just so happens to be tomorrow. But Roger told me that diaries were a thing for girls, more specifically teenage girls, which I am not, so I suppose you'd be a journal? I personally have been keeping journals since I was a lad, but I always just called them diaries. I never knew there were specifically assigned names for each gender. But whatever you are, a diary or a journal, I cannot decide, so I'll just give you a name. How about...Gwen. Yeah. I like Gwen. Nevertheless, I should have probably introduced myself first, so let's start fresh._

_I'm John Richard Deacon, and I was born on August 19th, 1951, but my friends just call me Deacy. Or Deacs. I play the bass guitar for a group called Queen, (that I am very proud of) but I also have many talents most don't know about. I write songs, play electric_ and _acoustic guitars, drums, and piano. I play a few other instruments as well, not to toot my own horn. Now if only I could sing, that would be lovely._

 _I guess since you are going to get to know me pretty well, I should tell you my other interests outside of music. It's just that I've been so busy with Queen lately, I feel like I have no personal life outside of it. Or_ them _. For my free time, I like to tinker with little mechanical pieces and make cool things, such as skateboards (which I always sell because heaven knows I cannot skate for my life) and small walkie-talkies. My favorite food? Cheese on toast. My best friend...hmm. I never had many friends growing up, but the ones I did have were usually the greatest people on Earth. Right now I can't decide between the front man of our band, Freddie Mercury, or the drummer, Roger Taylor. But if I had to choose, sorry Roger. Me and Freddie's relationship is something I don't think I could ever have with Rog. Freddie is like an older brother to me, he's taught me things about life even my dad hasn't. At least Roger has Brian. Anyways, while there are a lot more things I would like to tell you about, dear Gwen, I'm afraid I've run out of time to write. Gotta go do a gig, with you know, Queen. Goodbye for now, and I'll write again soon,_

_JD_

***

_Dear Gwen,_

_The boys are fighting. On my birthday. Lovely, isn't it? I specifically told Freddie that if we were to throw a big party for my 21st, (which I didn't even really want to do, but of course, Freddie will be Freddie and invite all of London to our flat anyways) that he was not to get drunk to the point where he couldn't function, or to start any fights. Of course, he did both. Now I'm upstairs, Gwen, writing to you, while Freddie is downstairs drunk and fighting with Roger (also drunk) as people cheer for whoever's side of the stupid argument they're on. Oh, and a gorgeous boy with large curly hair is trying to break them up. That boy would be Brian Harold May, the guitarist of our band. My crush for almost two years, I think. I don't know. How I feel about Brian Harold May, I mean. I think it's wrong, you know, of me to like a man being one myself. Well, I don't think it's wrong, it's just that other people do._

_Sorry to go off topic, but Freddie is thankfully a bisexual, and Brian and Roger seem to have no problem with it, so at least if I were to come out as bisexual as well I would be accepted by my second family (and hopefully my first, my parents are very aware that Freddie is bi yet they adore him). There have been protests going on about LGBT rights lately, and I think that's an amazing thing for people to stand up for such things._

_Anyways, back on topic, I've now moved you, my pen, and myself to the stairwell to watch the events going on at my lovely 21st birthday party that I'm enjoying so very much. Freddie is preparing to punch Roger in the face, but Gorgeous Harold May has blocked the punch. Gorgeous is now pushing Freddie back into a wall, and Freddie is flamboyantly sticking his tongue out at the angry blond drummer who is being held back by two random, but very pretty girls I've never seen before. I believe Gorgeous has calmed Freddie do- Nope nevermind. Freddie has now pushed Gorgeous out of the way and is charging at Roger, who has his back turned and his calmly smoking a cigarette. Well, now's my time to jump in. I'll probably fake cry in front of everyone and make Rog and Fred do whatever I want out of guilt all day tomorrow once they're sober. So long, Gwen, I'll try to write you an update as soon as I can,_

_JD_

     John put down Gwen and his pen, and went down the stairs, slowly. Freddie immediately backed off of Roger and displayed the fakest smile anyone had seen. "There's the birthday booyyyy!" he slurred, lazily throwing elegantly bejeweled arms in the air. "We were just arguing about how amazing a friend you ar-"

     "Fred what did I tell you? I told you no fighting on my birthday! None! No arguing, no drugs, no getting too drunk," John interrupted, wildly flailing his arms around his head, "And what have you done! Fighting with Roger on my birthday! The one day where anything will ever be about me!"

     "Oh John, come on, don't be so dull! You're usually a party _animal_ Deacs, what happened? Telling us what not to do at a _party_  you must be ridiculous! We were simply having fun. And I don't know what you mean, darling, I think you get plenty attention just like the rest of us-"

     "No! No I don't! It's always been about you! You, Freddie Mercury, great leader of the band! And you, Roger Taylor, beautiful drummer with big blue eyes and the blondest of hair, every girl's dream!" John yelled, pointing his finger at the blond drummer who was carelessly putting out his cigarette in a couch cushion with multiple burnt holes in it, just like the one he was creating, while the same two pretty girls trying to hold him back from attacking Freddie earlier stroked his hair in an attempt to calm him down. "And you! Brian May, creator of the band with the fabulous guitar and fabulous hair! It has never been about me, John Richard Deacon, the youngest and least experienced member of the band with the dullest hair of all of us, who plays the dullest instrument. I mean, I know I came in last, but you've gotta give me some credit! I'm not saying you can't have fun at my birthday party, but I wanted the day to be drama-free! No arguments and no person drunk off their minds. Just for one day! My one day of the year!" John's plan _had_ been to fake cry, but he was actually crying now. He stormed back upstairs before yelling, "Just go! Get everyone out! Tell everyone to go home, my birthday's been ruined. I don't mean to sound like a brat but this was my one special day and you single-handedly ruined it!" He retreated back to his bedroom, slamming the door.

_Dear fucking Gwen,_

_They ruined it, completely._

_JD_

***

 

_Dear Gwen,_

_I realize now that with the horrid way I yelled at Freddie I sounded like a little princess who wasn't getting her way, especially with the "It's always been about Freddie Mercury" bit. But can you blame me? It truly has felt like it's always been about the other three members of the band, like I mean nothing, like I'm not even a part of it. My birthday was supposed to be the one day that's about me, the one day I can command and control, and those three idiots (well not Brian really, he's a sweetheart for trying to break up the fight) ruined it. I didn't even_ _fake cry, Gwen! I really truly cried because of how upset and disappointed I was with them. Oh, but now I'm crying like a little baby because I yelled at them in front of everyone and probably embarrassed them for life. I didn't mean to, I swear! Now I'll have to be the one to apologize._

_But the music that was playing downstairs has stopped, and the amount of voices I hear are gradually decreasing. Brian must really be getting everyone to leave. I feel horrible, because the boys took a lot of their precious time to set up this big thing for me, with pretty decorations, pretty foods, pretty music, and pretty guests, and I simply yelled at them. I didn't even thank them. I was truly a brat today. I even yelled at poor Brian, who was only trying to help the situa_

     There was a knock on John's bedroom door, and he put his pen down mid-sentence. He took off his birthday tiara that Freddie bought him (it was a cheap plastic one with fake rhinestones that said "Birthday Princess" on it in pink Disney font) and went to go see who could have been knocking on the door. Well speak of the devil, it was none other than the gorgeous, curly-haired Brian May, wearing an apologetic look on his face and an unapologetic maroon button-up dress shirt with the top four buttons undone.

     "May I come in?" was the first thing he asked John, who had been staring at his bare chest for the past five seconds (five seconds much too long.)

     "Yes," was John's simple reply. Darn it all. If he had known it would be _Brian_ at his door, he would have wiped the tear stains from his cheeks and fixed his hair a little before opening the door. Well, too late now. Brian came into the room slowly, taking off his white clogs and putting them neatly on the floor next to John's bed, taking a seat on the edge of it. John followed suit, sitting next to Bri.

     "John, I am _so_ sorr-"

     "Don't. Bri. You weren't the one who started anything. You didn't do anything wrong. I saw you down there, trying to break up the fight. I appreciate it. But it's not you who I want to hear the apology from. It's them," John began, hoping Brian would know who 'them' is referring to. "But I do think I owe you guys one."

     "Us? For what? You didn't do anything, it was _us_ who ruined your party. It's ridiculous that you had to hide up here because Freddie and Roger wanted to let band arguments affect what we were doing in real life. I-"

     "Is _that_ what they were arguing about?" John asked angrily as all thoughts of apologizing to those two losers exited his mind. "Are you kidding me? Arguing about band shit on my birthday while drunk! Forget apologizing to them, they're apologizing to me! Where are those two idiots, anyways?"

     "Actually, Fred didn't get that drunk believe it or not. Nor did Roger. They were a bit drunk, but they were genuinely trying to stay true to their word about drinking. They're downstairs right now, most likely cleaning up the aftermath of the party and probably trying to make up before they start anything else. We can go downstairs if you want...?"

     John did want to go downstairs and clear things up with Freddie and Roger, but here was Brian, sitting on his bed for the first time, looking pretty comfortable. Maybe this would be a great time to chat with him while Freddie and Roger were downstairs cleaning things up. They had been a band for two years now, but John seemed to always be closest to Freddie. He, believe it or not, didn't know a lot about Brian despite their two years in being coworkers and since this was one of those rare times when he had Brian's full attention, this would be the perfect opportunity to get to know him. "No," He began, "How about we stay and chat? Y'know, until they're done down there. They'll probably come up here eventually anyways."

     Brian smiled his big bright smile, the sweetest sight John had ever seen, "Sure. That's sounds great."

_Dear Gwen,_

_Last night was amazing. Brian is so interesting to talk to. (Not that I hadn't already knew that, but last night I was simply reminded) He's so sweet and funny, and we talked about many great things. He told me stories of his childhood and things about his wild interest in astrophysics. He's so witty too, a comedian. And he's incredibly smart. He seems to know everything about everything. And the boys, as in Freddie and Roger, were great too. We all apologized and ended up having ice cream and cookies for a dessert. We watched a simply outstanding new film on my television, and we all went to sleep on my queen-sized bed. Isn't that funny? Just imagine it; four grown men sleeping on a queen-sized bed. Brian could hardly fit on there with the rest of us! But we made it work. That sounds like a happy ending to me, doesn't it?_

_JD_

_P.S. ! As for what I said earlier about making Roger and Freddie do whatever I wanted for the following day of my birthday because of them fighting, I wasn't kidding. As I'm writing this, at this very second, Roger is rubbing my feet (which he is doing an amazing job at!) and Freddie is feeding me grapes. Although Brian hadn't really done anything wrong, he still wanted to be apart of the "Serve John For a Day" thing, out of guilt. So he's currently making me crepes, my favorite French pastry._

_And just a little side note for myself if I'm ever to read this diary one day when I'm much older, that little liquid stain on the corner of this page is grape juice that accidentally squirted out of my mouth when I bit into one of the juicy fruits. Au_ _revoir!_

_JD_


	2. The Jackson Five vs. Tammy Michelle's Baking Program

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> rig and bro fight over tv

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the song reference in chap 1 was '39 where it says, "Brian smiled his big bright smile, the sweetest sight John ever seen" anyways enjoy uwu

_Dear Gwen,_

_It's been almost two weeks since I last wrote to you. On the day after my birthday, I accidentally lost you when I was going through my closet. Me and the boys were having a fashion show, (don't ask) and I lost you in all the clothes. That I hadn't cleaned up. Until today. Anyways, you didn't really miss a ton while I was gone. Well, maybe a little. Me and the boys played 3 different gigs at three different pubs throughout the two weeks. Roger got a new girlfriend. And he must really like her, because they've been going strong for over a week now. That's a new record for Rog!_

_Bri would bring home a different girl after each of our gigs, but they were only one night stands, and it truly hurt pretending not to care. I just kinda sat in my room and, you know, blocked out the uh...noises. Just like mine, nothing interesting has been going on in Freddie's love life. At least not that I know of. Despite him being the most flamboyant and outgoing of us all, Freddie's also the most private. I reckon there are a lot of things about him we don't know yet._

_Right now it is about 9 o'clock in the morning and I am currently lying on the cough while Brian and Roger fight over who gets the television remote. Freddie's in the kitchen, his turn to make breakfast. As for Roger and Brian, I don't understand why they can't just take turns. Roger would rather watch the Jackson Five cartoon than what Brian wants to watch, a baking show. He's been getting into baking lately. Did I mention to you that he made me crepes for my birthday? They were absolutely delicious, with sweet chocolate and strawberry filling, with whipped cream on top and a marvelous chocolate drizzle. Anyhow, I'm on Roger's side with the TV argument. Despite my usually agreeing with Brian for everything, I would much rather be watching Michael Jackson and his brothers fight for the attention of an attractive flight attendant than watch an old woman with sagging tits teach me how to bake cupcakes without using eggs, butter, or milk._

_They're funny, really, Brian and Roger. They argue like brothers, over the stupidest of things. Roger is now reaching over me, trying to grab the remote from Brian, who put the remote under his...butt, and now he's_

_Crap. Sorry. Roger bumped into me and resulted in me messing up my writing. I accidentally drew an annoying line across the page. And it's in pen. Lovely. I'm done with these idiots, really. I'm gonna try and settle this before things get really bad. So long, Gwen, and I'll update you as soon as I can._

_JD_

     Deacy rolled his eyes in annoyance as he dropped his pen and diary on the coffee table. "Will you two _i_ _diots_ cut it out? You've been arguing like two teenage girls fighting over the last pair of high heels in a shoe store! How about we watch an episode of the Jacksons, and then an episode of Brian's stupid cooking show!"

     Brian's head of curls whipped around violently to face John, hazel eyes blown wide as saucers. "Jonathan. Richard. Deacon-"

     "It's not Jonathan, it's literally just John-"

     "It is not just _any_ stupid cooking show! It is only _Tammy Michelle's Baking_  the best baking series that's ever been televised! Don't you understand? I can finally eat my favorite pastries again with these egg-free tutorials! It's only 3 hours long, I don't understand why Roger won't just let me watch it!"

     Roger turned to look at Brian, "You _don't_  understand why I won't _bloody_  fucking let you watch a dumb cooking show hosted by an old ass American woman who can barely stand upright on her own? For _three_ fucking hours? Brian! The Jackson Five episodes are usually no longer than _10 minutes long! You're_ insane if you think I'm gonna sit here for three hours and watch this bullshit!"

     "If you don't wanna watch this _bullshit_  then go upstairs and watch your own damned TV! In his household we watched mature television programs, not stupid children's cartoons!"

     Roger frowned, "But I told you Brian, I broke my telly. Out of anger. It's completely fucked now. Remember?"

     Brian looked down, playing with a lose thread from his pajama shirt, quietly mumbling, "Well. It's not _my_  fault you've got anger issues."

     This really set Roger off. He angrily jumped up off of the couched and marched right in front of Brian's face, and began flailing his arms madly, yelling, " _I_ _?_ Have anger issues? Me? You're yelling in my face like a madman over a three-hour TV program that literally only _you_  want to watch and I'm the one who's got the anger issues?"

     "What _really_ baffles me is the fact that you think _I'm_  yelling in _your_  face like a madman. Look at you! You're clearly the one that's in my face! In that stupid penguin onesie I can barely take you seriously!" Brian laughed hysterically, "You're all red over a children's cartoon! I simply wanted to watch my show and..."

     John left the living room, tired of listening to Brian and Roger quarrel. He entered the kitchen where Freddie was making the plates for breakfast. "What are those two princesses arguing about this time?"

     "You really can't hear them?" John sighed in response to Freddie's question, "I'm surprised. They're loud enough for the entire town to hear. This time it's over The Jackson Five cartoon versus the three-hour long Tammy Michelle's Baking program. You can probably guess who wants to watch what. They've been going at it for 20 minutes now. Roger's cartoon is probably over at this point."

     Just then, there was a loud crash that sounded eerily similar to a glass shattering, followed by dead silence, followed by, "It wasn't me!"

     Freddie pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "For heaven's sake," before removing his apron that said _World's Best Single Mom_ on it in red letters. He stormed into the living room where Roger was cleaning up a shotglass, that he shattered out of pure rage, with his bare fucking hands.

     "That's it," he began, dumping the glass shards into a nearby garbage can, "I can't even sit in the same room as you anymore. You're insufferable, Brian May."

     "Now now," Freddie began softly, taking a seat on the couch next to where Roger was cleaning up the glass, "You realize that by now, Roger's show is over right? You boys could have simply watched Roger's show, and _then_  watched Brian's! It would ha-"

     "That's what I've been trying to say this whole time!" Roger interrupted.

     "Roger, let me _fucking_  finish!" Freddie snapped a little aggressively at the blond, "Now me and Deacy have been listening to you _morons_  argue over this for the past half hour! We're both sick of it, I tell you, this is nonsense! Two grown men arguing over a television program for 30 minutes, and you two really couldn't have come to a simple compromise!"

     "Well I'm over it now," Roger huffed in annoyance, dumping the last of the glass into the garbage can, "I'm going upstairs. In my room. Where I can be _alone._ You might as well just put my breakfast in a container, because I've got no appetite at this point!" Rog began to storm angrily up the stairs, but Freddie was having none of it.

     "Roger, get your ass back down here _right_ now! Me and John just had to listen to you two _assholes_  quarrel for half an hour, and I refuse to let this argument end without some sort of compromise!" Roger, in his cute little penguin onesie, rolled his large blue eyes and stomped back down the stairs, his lips in a childish pout the entire time. "Now Brian," Freddie started, turning to the curly haired man who was rubbing his forehead, clearly stressed. "I think _you_  should be the one to go upstairs, not Roger. Your TV works, doesn't it? You can still watch your program while it's on, and me, Roger, and John can watch whatever we agree on down here." John then came into the living room with the rest of the band, handing everyone their plates for breakfast.

     "But Fred," Brian pouted, large, watery hazel eyes looking up into Freddie's deep browns, "I wanted to watch TV with you guys. Not by myself." At this point, it felt like Freddie was trying to settle a dispute between two whiny toddlers, but John had to admit, it was pretty cute.

     Once John sat down with his pancakes and bacon (On the far end of the couch from Brian, he _hated_  when the other boys ate meat right in front of him) and had an idea. "How about we watch a film. We've got plenty of those, and we're more likely to find something we agree on. That way you two'll _shut the hell up!_ "

     "Marvelous idea, Deacy!" Freddie cheered, almost dropping his plate full of soggy pancakes all over the carpet, "My vote is for _The Go-Between!_ "

     Loud groans filled the room as Fred went to go grab the film. "Freedddddiiieeeeee," one of those idiots groaned, it sounded the most like Roger so that's who Freddie assumed it was while his back was turned, "we've watched that move _billions_  of times!"

     While the boys argued over what move to watch, (gosh, those four argue like a married couple!) John went to go grab his diary from off the coffee table.

_Dear Gwen,_

_We were finally able to settle the argument between Bri and Rog. And thank god, because Roger began getting physical. He shattered a small shotglass. At least it's a step up from the glass window he broke 6 months ago. Anyways, we watched The Go-Between, and then Daddy Long Legs, a classic American movie from my very early childhood. It's a dramatic, musical, romantic comedy about a pretty redheaded French orphan called Julie who gets sent to an American University by a rich, but old American man named Jervis who was in love with her. But Jervis does not want Julie to know he exists, so he anonymously sends her money and expensive clothing. She writes to a man called "Daddy Long Legs," who she feels is her guardian, the man that sent her to uni, the one who sent her all the clothes and lavish things. But Jervis finds her hundreds of letters to this Daddy Long Legs, and he feels he has to tell Julie the truth. He pretends to be someone he's not in order to be able to see Julie. Long story short, Julie falls in love with him, he tells her who he really is and they live happily every after._

_Gosh, I've loved that movie since I was very little! It's so romantic and dramatic. It was everyone else's first time seeing it, since it was a film I packed from home when I first moved into the flat with the rest of the boys last year. I completely forgot I had it! Freddie absolutely adored it, because it was everything he looked for in a movie; cheesy, romantic, comical, dramatic, and most importantly, theatrical. I swear, the amount of 15-minute dance scenes in that movie is so ridiculous, I might as well have gone to a ballet performance._

_Anyways, I'm very nervous for tomorrow. There's this big gig me and the boys have to do, but it's like the usual pubs we go to with an audience of about 40-50. We're gonna be playing for a bunch of uni kids, at my uni! There'll be familiar faces in the crowd since I still technically go to school, (unlike my other band members who are all much older than me) and the last thing I need is to make a fool of myself in front of a bunch of kids I'll see at school just next Monday._

_I've got my costume ready for tomorrow, (because Freddie insists on us wearing costumes, Brian and Roger used to tell me that he would come up to them after their Smile gigs and tell them they're doing it all wrong and that they must wear costumes) and I think that's what I'm most nervous about. A sparkly black coat with a silky white dress shirt underneath it and nice dress pants with white and black wingtip oxfords isn't really something I want my grade school bullies to see me wearing. But oh well. I'll update you on what's happening tomorrow right before the big gig! Haha, that sounds funny. Big gig. And it rhymes. Anyways, wish me luck, Gwen._

_JD_


	3. Big Gig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bois do their gig and then Deacy has to go to a fancy dinner with Brian that he's nervous about (;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello ladies and ladies, sorry chap 3 took me so long to write. i planned on finishing this chapter all the way on Friday but i left my laptop at school over the weekend so it pushed me bacc so here it is! also, i was thinking about making the fancy dinner thing with bri and deacy be a part of this chapter but i wanted to leave u guys a lil cliff hanger and write that part for next chap. stay tuned lovies (;

_Dear Gwen,_

      _Oh dear, I'm so nervous! The auditorium seating is huge looking out from backstage! Right now, we're at Chelsea College, at the University of London. That's where I go to school. We're viewing the stage just three hours before our performance, so we get an idea of what it looks like. We're also here to rehearse a bit. I'm scared out of my mind, the crowd is gonna be huge! It doesn't help that my principal just told me that tickets to see us have sold out, so every. last. seat. in the auditorium will be filled. This is the largest crowd I've ever performed in! I don't have a lot of time to write to you, Gwen, so this entry will have to be a bit shorter than usual. We've got three hours to rehearse our entire show and change into our costumes, so I've gotta go now. Goodbye, and like always, I'll update you after the gig!_

_JD_

     John was so nervous, but very excited. He grabbed his bass out of it's case and went out onto the stage, where Brian was already tuning his Red Special, Roger was just finishing setting up his drum set, and Freddie was singing various random melodies into the microphone provided by the school. And John was right, the auditorium is huge looking out from the stage. Of course, he knows what it _looks_ like, as he goes to the damned school, but he's never seen it from on stage and it looks like an entirely different room. "So, Princess, are you done writing all your secret-y secrets in your little diary?" Freddie asked into the mic, followed by quiet chuckles from Roger and Brian.

     "Freddie! I swear to god, you're _so_  lucky this is a rehearsal! Imagine if you said that during our gig!"

     "Ooh, lovely! Thanks for the idea darling, now that's exactly what I'm going to do later. Roger, make sure to remind me," Freddie teased in response.

     "Consider it done," Roger winked at Freddie, doing a drum roll as Brian played a little guitar riff repeatedly, nodding his head to Roger's beat. John couldn't help but watch Brian, for he looked so beautiful playing his red guitar and he didn't even realize it. As someone once said about him, he was too into the music to realize how beautiful he looked. Brian noticed John staring at him from the corner of his eye, and turned his head so that his eyes met John's. John cleared his throat and looked away, completely missing the way Brian smiled at the cute gesture, before going back to focusing on his guitar riff. _Great_ , John thought, _If he looks at me like that again I'm fucked._

***

After rehearsal, the boys went into the disgusting smelling boy's locker room to change into their fabulous, not-so-disgusting-smelling costumes. John wore a sparkly black coat with a silky white dress shirt underneath it and black dress pants with white and black wingtip oxfords. He unapologetically copied Brian's style by leaving the first four buttons undone. That wasn't the initial plan, though. The initial plan was to completely button up his silky shirt and bring the outfit home with a black sparkly bowtie to match his sparkly black coat. But he decided that wanting to impress Brian with his hairless, smooth-as-a-baby's-bottom, " _super_  manly" bare chest was more important than wearing his entire costume.

     Speaking _of_  Brian, he wore a black turtleneck with black bell-bottoms and white clogs, and the white scarf he carelessly draped around his neck really complemented his...vampire-like style. "Really, you look like you hide in the corner of your bedroom writing romantic poems while sipping on the blood of your enemies," Roger, wearing a purple short-sleeved button up shirt, (completely unbuttoned, of course) with black skinny jeans, black and white Adidas, and fifty-billion different necklaces, said when Brian emerged from the locker room. "Why do you wear so much black, anyways?"

     "Don't worry darling, it's just a phase," Freddie laughed loudly, sashaying out of the locker room in a dark green shirt with kimono sleeves and golden patterns all over it. He had on golden pants to match the patterns on his shirt, _very_  heavy mascara, golden dress shoes to go with the rest of his outfit, and 5 different chunky golden bracelets. On each arm. "Donchu' know? Everybody has to go through their emo phase at some point, dear. Brian's just...a late bloomer!"

     "It is _not_  a phase!" Brian snapped at Freddie through clenched teeth, which only made Freddie laugh louder. "I just like black. It looks good on skinny boys like me."

     "You're not wrong," Freddie said, finally taking in Brian's outfit, looking him up and down in approval, "You've really outdone yourself, Bri. I don't know what Roger's fussing on about."

     Brian childishly stuck his tongue out at Roger. Freddie rolled his eyes at the two before asking, "Do you guys know where the hell Deacy is? I swear he always takes the longest getting dressed."

     "Probably in there jerking off to his reflection," Roger shrugged nonchalantly, before sticking his head in the locker room door, yelling, "Hey, slow poke, what are you doing in there? You're taking forever, come on out you weirdo!"

     John gasped from where he was standing in front of the mirror, wiping away a tear that fell down his face. Roger was right, he was looking at his reflection. (But not jerking off to it.) He felt so ashamed at what he saw, his too-thin arms, too-wide thighs. He was so insecure about his body and he was afraid Brian, or anyone in the audience, wouldn't like his outfit after all. _But_ , he figured, _this is no time to whine about your appearance, John. You've got a gig to do in just 10 minutes, and a band full of idiots that's counting on you. So don't worry about what you look like, just go our there and knock 'em dead!_ He sniffled, wiped his face, and walked outside the locker room with his chin up. Well _, at least you look confident,_ he thought to himself, _that's a start._

     John was surprised to find Brian being the only one standing outside of the locker room. He wondered where Roger and Freddie went. "They went backstage," Brian answered his mental question, as if he could read John's mind. "They wanted me to stay back here and wait for y-" Brian turned to look at John for the first time, in his gorgeous costume. Brian, for the very first time, was _noticing_ John, and John was noticing that Brian was noticing. He blushed a bright red as Brian stared at him, his eyes starting at John's too-thin arms and ending at his too-wide thighs. "Whoa. You look...amazing."

     John, who was now the color of a tomato, could only look away and say, "Thank you, Brian. So do you," before ducking the opposite way and quickly jogging out to the backstage area. Brian smiled to himself, his confidence blasting out of the roof at John's small compliment. _Oh, get a hold of yourself, May. It wasn't even a compliment. He was only being polite because you complimented him first._  But oh well, it still made him happy.

     He followed John to the backstage area where Roger and Freddie had apparently been, "Waiting _ages_ / for you lovebirds to finish whatever snogging you were doing back there that you think we don't know about!" John, who had turned _even more_ red from that remark, had to politely explain with help from Brian that no, they had not been snogging, and no, they had not been doing anything else, Roger, thank you very much.

     "Alright boys, we're on in five. You ready to rock n' roll?" Roger asked the group. His response was a "Woo-hoo! Let's rock n' roll!" a "Yea, sure." and a, "Hell _f_ _ucking_  yeah!"

     They all waiting on the stairs that went up to the stage, waiting for whoever was hosting their gig to call their name. The host announced Queen and they all ran on stage, receiving the biggest cheer they've _ever_ heard in their entire life. John could hear a group of people chanting "Deacy! Deacy! Deacy!" And it felt _amazing_. He wasn't used to having people cheer his name, ever! He looked out into the very large crowd to see who it was chanting his name and it was a few of his friends he recognized from school. He shyly waved to them and took his place on stage, wishing he could shrink and hide behind his bass. _Man_  the crowd was huge, and he prayed to whatever God is up in the sky that he didn't mess up.

***

     The crowd's deafening applause filled the room after the band had finished their last song. They had never gotten an applause like that, it was amazing! The auditorium began to empty, as people were leaving, probably making plans on how to spend the rest of their Friday night. The boys figured they should do the same.

     "Boys, why don't we head to the pub and grab a drink or two?"

     "Nah Fred, we always do that," replied Brian. "How about we do something different?"

     "Yes, Brian, and by different, you mean?" Roger asked after turning to Brian and giving his blue eyes a dramatic roll.

     "I was thinking we'd go to a nice restaurant, you know, get all fancy-dressed and whatnot," Brian then turned to Freddie, who was snorting to himself, "What do you say Fred?"

     "Yes, Brian, because _something different_ means a fucking restaurant. You can go get all 'fancy-dressed and whatnot' while me, Roger, and Deacy go to the pub. Let's go ladies."

     "Actually," Deacy chimed in, trying to save poor Brian who was being ganged up on. "A fancy restaurant sounds nice. So I suppose me and Bri will get fancy-dressed while you and Roger go to whatever dirty pub you plan on going to." He smiled proudly at himself, although he had no idea what he was saying. He _actually_  wanted to go to the pub, not to whatever restaurant Bri was talking about. Darn it all! It was his stupid crush on Brian that was talking. John turned to Brian, green eyes sparkling, as Brian turned to him and courageously winked at him.

     Of course, John was expecting there to be some sort of agreement where Freddie (or Roger) decide that yes, they do go to the pub a lot, and maybe they should try something they've never done like a fancy restaurant, but what he _hadn't_  thought about was that this was now a two on two disagreement. They were tied, and there was nothing those stubborn rockstars could do about it. "Fine," Freddie said, nodding his head stubbornly, "Me and Roger will see you boys tonight. Have fun."

     "Bye," Roger snorted, as he and Freddie turned on their heels, walking out of the large and loud auditorium doors of the university.

      _Fuck_!, Deacy thought to himself, _they've left me here with Brian of all people! Oh darn it all! How am I supposed to function! I'll be so nervous having to sit across from him, and face him? Dear god! And I can't even back out of it now, because I don't want to hurt Brian and-_

     "Well, John, I guess it's just you and me," Brian smiled sadly, shaking his head, "Those two are so stubborn, I swear. They can never just agree on somethi- Hey _wait_!"

     Confused at Brian's sudden change in tone, Deacy looked up at the curly-haired giant, cocking one eyebrow and wondering, "What's wrong Bri?"

     "Those idiots have the car!" he began running out of the auditorium doors, long legs getting him very far, "Wait! You guys have to _at least_  take Deacy and me home! Wait!" Deacy ran after Brian and into the parking lot, where Freddie and Roger sat in the car, lights on. Freddie tilted his head back laughing cruelly at the other half  of the band standing helplessly _outside_  of the car, as Roger did an ugly witch cackle, flipping John and Brian off before pulling out of the parking lot and speeding away from the school.

     " _Bastards_!" John yelled at the back of the speeding car, laughing and finding the entire ordeal quite hilarious until he saw the look on Brian's red, angry face. Oh no. It took _a lot_  to get Brian angry, but once you've done it...oh dear.

     "Those absolute fucking morons! Already being spoiled brats about not wanting to do to a decent fucking place instead of nasty bars filled with perverts and whores looking for money! I swear, they've been fucking up everything lately! First, your birthday, and now this! And all their gonna do is bring some hooker home tonight to disturb _my_ peace! Do those pieces of absolute dog shit know that they've pissed me off! Oh they won't hear the end of this, I tell you, oh I'll get them! I really will! I'll...I'll..."

     "You'll what?" John asked, amused at the clearly pissed off Brian, knowing that he really wouldn't do anything to Freddie or Roger despite how angry they've made him.

     "Nothing," Brian mumbled grumpily, although calming down a bit. "We'll just take the next coach home. I'm tired anyways."

     Now it was John's turn to be upset. "But I thought you said we'd go to a restaurant. If I had known you'd change your mind I would have just went with the other two," he frowned.

     Brian, feeling guilty, finally decided that they'd still go to the restaurant. They both went back inside into the auditorium's backstage, grabbing their bass, guitar, and John grabbing Gwen of course, before catching the next coach back to their flat to change into something more presentable for a fancy place like the one they'd be going to. John hoped that Brian had an idea on where they were going, because he didn't think he knew _any_  fancy restaurants in the area. When asked such, Brian just told John that, "It was a surprise," winking at the bassist, causing him to blush a bright and beautiful red that was certainly not missed by the guitarist. As the next coach wouldn't take them to the area they were going to for the next ten minutes, it gave Deacy some time to get a small journal entry in. He really needed the time too, because there where butterflies doing somersaults in his stomach with the knowledge that he was literally about to go to a fancy diner with _his crush_. He wrote,

 _Dear Gwen_ ,

  _Just as I thought that I wouldn't be so nervous after completing the Big Gig, now I'm even_ more  _nervous! God, and it's all Roger and Freddie's faults! So I'll try and be quick with my writing, considering I'm basically about to go on a fancy date with my crush, Brian Harold May! Oh, well, it's not_ exactly _a date, but...well who cares! I'll pretend in my mind like it is. Oh, Gwen, if only you knew how excited I am! I'm squealing like a little thirteen-year-old girl after her first kiss, and god it's embarrassing. I've put on my favorite outfit just for him. I hope he likes it. Oh, and I've also drenched myself in cologne so that I don't smell weird. I wish I had time to shower, because I still feel kinda gross and icky after performing, but oh, well, I'm just too nervous to do anything! Oh, darn it all! I forgot to do my hair! It probably looks an absolute mess after performing and having Fred toss glitter in it during our performance. I'm gonna go brush my hair and fix myself up a bit before we head out. Wish me luck, Gwen! As always, I'll update you on everything later!_

_JD_

     Deacy closed his diary, putting it in his sock drawer where he pretty much kept it, and looked at himself in the mirror one last time. Of course, he hated what he saw, but Brian's compliment on his stage costume earlier was a major confidence booster for him. He brushed out the glitter in his hair and sprayed a little hairspray, the fog nearly giving him an asthma attack. Despite his insecurities, he looked pretty sharp in his silky cornflower blue button-up, leaving the top for buttons undone (à la Brian, of course) tucked into some bell-bottom jeans, and his favorite pair of tan platform boots. He also wore a tiny silver charm necklace with a little crescent moon hanging from it. His grandmother gave it to him for good luck when he was very little. She told him to _only_  wear it whenever he was in need of good luck, so he followed her instruction and wore it during this time of need. Why did he need luck, really? Well, because he was nervous. He didn't want to make a fool of himself in front of his _cruuushhh_  (As Julie from _Daddy Long Legs_ would say, "ooh la la!") And hopefully, with the power of luck, this fancy dinner could contribute with turning his relationship with Brian into something more, whether it happened tonight or in the near future? Whatever he may hope for, all John knew was that he needed some good luck tonight.


	4. The Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is probably not the chapter that you guys wanted and deserve. u guys probably expected much better, and probably a better ending too. sorry for failing u guys, but ill try to make sure the future chapters r more spicy and more drama. love u

     The coach screeched to a halt. The sudden stop made John jump, as he turned to Brian, who was sitting in the seat in the row across from him.

     "Well," Brian sighed, turning to John. "This is our stop."

     The pair exited the bus as John looked up to finally see this _super secretive_  restaurant Brian was talking about. And boy, were Roger and Freddie missing out! The bushes posing right underneath the glass windows of the building, decorated in beautiful red roses, were perfectly round, and the tables that sat on the outside of the diner were nice, neat, and candlelit. There was a fountain on each side of the path that led to the front double-doors, (glass, of course, or what's even the point?) surrounded by tiny rose bushes and various other red-flower bushes. The sign above the doors was made out of a rustic wood, but not to the point where it looked dirty and ruined the romance-y, fancy, and picturesque theme of the outside area, and on that sign, the restaurant's name. In French. Of course. _Le Belle Epoque,_ the sign read, and John would later find out from one of the waiters there that it was French for _The Good Times._  Oh this would be good times indeed. John was already in love with the restaurant, and this was only the outside!

     "Oh, _Brian_ ," he sighed dreamily, looking up at the brightly shining crescent moon, matching his necklace. It was all just so...so _romantic_!

     "Lovely, innit?" replied Brian, who seemed to have been feeling the same romantic feeling John was.

     Walking inside, the restaurant was even _more_ to die for, as if that were possible. On the walls hung different photos taken in France. One specific photo that caught John's eye was a colorized photo of the Eiffel Tower at night in 1943. Whoever colorized the photo must have added false stars into it, because it was littered with thousands of tiny white dots, quite similar to the ones in the sky currently.

     "How many?" asked a fancy, redheaded waiter-guy in a fancy little suit with a fancy French accent, standing at a wooden desk right in front of the glass doors. /Wow _, even the servers here are French_ John thought to himself, grinning. _How authentic._

     "A table for two, please," Brian smiled. He must've had a contagious smile, because soon John was grinning too. He had only been to a restaurant with Brian two other times, and if there was once thing he learned from it, it was that Brian _loved_  saying, "A table for four, please," In a mature, adult-sounding voice whenever the band would go out to eat. The only difference now was the amount of people that the table was for.

     A pretty young waitress with long, red hair just like the little redheaded waiter-guy approached the two before smiling politely and saying, "Right this way." The waitress, who had a French accent just like the redheaded waiter-guy, lead them to their table, a comfy booth in the very back corner of the restaurant, right where that vintage Eiffel Tower photo was hanging. While he wondered why the waitress gave them a booth instead of a regular table, John continued to take in the scenery, the crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, the tall wax candles that were lit and placed right in the very center of all of the ovular clothed tables, including his and Brian's. Hell, they probably had the employees do measurements to assure that every candle was perfectly and mathematically _right_  in the middle. He noticed how all the circular tables also had a beautiful red rose lying helplessly on the tabletop, and frowned when he realized that the booths didn't come with them.

     Brian noticed this and asked, "What's the matter, Deacy?" trying to look John in the eye, but the shorter man seemed to have his eye on something else.

     "I'll be right back," Deacy replied, getting out of his seat and approaching one of the empty round tables. He picked up the rosy flower, satisfied. He carelessly strolled back to his and Brian's table, where the tall, curly-haired guitarist simply cocked an eyebrow, displaying utter confusion. "Don't mind me," John said, "I just really wanted the rose."

     Brian laughed as John put the rose up to his nose, sniffing it. Roses never really had an amazing smell to John, he just felt like he was _supposed_  to sniff any flower he held in his hand. He felt it was disrespectful, in a sense, to _not_  sniff flowers, for they spend so much time releasing their aromas just for it to be ignored. "Oh," Brian said, observing the ethereal John Deacon with his adorable little nose hidden in the petals of the flowers. "Stay just like that, Deacy, don't move." John didn't move. Until Brian pulled his camera out of his pocket. Then John moved.

     " _Seriously_?" John laughed, still delicately holding the beautiful red plant, "You brought your camera? I hadn't even realized, you dork!"

     Brian laughed too, explaining that he brought it to take photos of something that might catch his eye at the beautiful restaurant. But what John didn't know, was that that really wasn't why Brian brought his camera. He actually brought it to take photos of _someone_ , not something. "Now seriously, do that pose you were just doing when you were sniffing the rose. That's it, now just look up at the camera. No, don't move your head, John, just look up at the lens." He took the snapshot, well, more like two or three, before whispering in a shaky breath, "Gorgeous." John hadn't heard him. "I'll let you have the photos once-"

     "Have you two decided your drinks yet?" The same pretty waitress from earlier asked. Neither John or Brian had even noticed her come up to the table.

     "Yes, Miss, I'll have the, uh, apple juice," Brian replied, looking back and fourth from the menu, to the waitress, to the menu, then to John, who was chuckling quietly to himself.

     "Apple juice? At a restaurant like this? You worry me, Brian May. Anyways, I'll have the sparkling cider."

     "Sparkling cider!" Brian scoffed at Johns order, "That's practically the same thing I'm getting! Just sparkly!"

     "Key word, Brian, _sparkly_. Sparkling cider is simply sparkly apple juice. It's fancy, _classy_. And it fits more with the theme of this restaurant, so that's what I'm ordering instead of silly apple juice. I'm simply showing you how it's done."

     "Make that _t_ _wo_  sparkling ciders, actually, Miss," Brian turned to the woman taking their orders.

     The waitress snorted, rolling her eyes before sighing, "Coming right up. Have you two decided your meals for tonight, or did you need a moment?"

     "We'll have a moment, thanks," Brian decided for him and John, who agreeably also needed a moment to look over the menu and decide what he wanted for dinner. The waitress turned on her heels, walking away, her heels making a _clickety-clackity_  noise on the polished ceramic tile floors.

     "Wait!" John called after the waitress, who turned back around and sashayed towards the booth.

     "How may I assist you?" The waitress asked John, flipping her long, red hair.

     "Le Belle Epoque," was all that came out of John's mouth.

     "Yes? The name of our restaurant?" asked the beautiful waitress, cocking an eyebrow.

     "No, I mean..! What does it mean, is what I meant to ask you."

     "Ahh, _L_ _e Bell Epoque_ ," the waitress smiled, "The Good Times." Turning back on her heels, she walked away from the table.

     In the end, John ordered a croque _monsieur_ , which isn't actually a fancy food despite the name and theme of the restaurant John and Brian were eating at. It's basically a French fried ham and cheese sandwich, because lord knows Deacy loves some _cheese_ (and ham) _on toast_. He also found out, from the pretty redheaded waitress, (whose name is Antoinette) that _Le Belle Epoque_ was actually a family restaurant opened by her father, who was an immigrant from France. The little redheaded guy in the fancy little suit at the front of the building was her twin brother, Louis. _Well that explains...pretty much everything!_ John thought to himself. Brian ended up ordering some weird vegetarian spaghetti with beans as substitute for the meatballs, and to that John said, "Brian, we're supposed to be eating like we're in _France_  not Italy!" to which Brian went on and on about how spaghetti isn't actually Italian and how the origins of spaghetti were when Italian immigrants came to America and blah, blah, blah. None of it mattered, because John was entirely too happy to care about the origins of spaghetti. Right now, he was here, with the gorgeous Brian May, eating a fancy ham and cheese sandwich, and in the end, that's all that really mattered.

***

_Dear Gwen,_

_Oh my goodness, tonight was absolutely amazing! For starters, the restaurant Brian took us to was absolutely fabulous! I guess I must have really been underestimating the restaurants in town, because this one was the epitome of perfection! I sort of feel bad for Roger and Freddie because they totally missed out. One day, I'll take them back to_ Le Belle _Epoque, the restaurant me and Bri went to, so those sorry ass losers can see just what they missed out on. But at the same time, I don't really feel bad at all. I mean, to be fair, they did strand me and Bri back at the school earlier. Not to mention, if those two idiots joined me and Brian's lovely dinner, it would probably be ruined over arguments about where to sit, and who gets to take which hot waitress home, and just absolute chaos. In addition, I honestly don't think I would have had as good of a time as I did tonight if Freddie and Roger were here. They always cause disruption everywhere they go, they're both loud, obnoxious, and just...horrible! Every time we go out in public, those losers just embarrass me so much! I'm sure Brian must feel the same way. Anyways, enough about those two baboons and more about the fabulous dinner._

 _I got to know even more about Brian tonight than I ever have. Turns out he's half Scottish, which I never knew, and that his father was in the army. I also learned that spaghetti isn't from Italy? Don't ask... Anyways, the most important part of tonight, believe it or not, was_ after  _the dinner. Me and Brian rode the coach back home together, and instead of sitting in the seat in the row across from me, he sat right next to me! And the coach was even less crowded than last time! And, Gwen, would you guess what he did on the way back? He literally rested his head on my shoulder the entire ride home, his thick curly hair tickling my neck the entire time. I honestly had no idea what to do so I just kinda tensed up, but nevertheless it was amazing! When we got inside, Brian was really sleepy, and you could tell just by looking in his eyes. So I walked him to his bedroom, expecting him to simply say goodnight and open the door, but instead he bent down and wrapped his long arms around me. I'm not a great hugger, so I was stuck in his arms for a few seconds, but then I hugged back and just...oh gosh! I feel like a stupid schoolgirl with a crush again. Oh well, I'm going to go take a shower now, because Roger and Freddie just both bursted through the door, and I can hear the loud drunken laughter of two girls, who they've probably brought home with them from the pub. Shit. I'm not getting any sleep tonight._

_JD_


	5. those damned dinner rolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dinner rolls. bye

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brian's parents come over and... well you'll see. I've been working on this since April 1st to try to get it posted on Brian's father's birthday... but that was weeks ago and it didn't work out because of school work and testing. Hope you understand, and enjoy♡

_Dear Gwen,_

_It is the day after me and Brian's, "date," as I've been calling it, so nothing really happened besides me trying to fall asleep to Roger (whose room is right next to mine, yay!) and some girl he brought home yesterday...getting it on. Right now I'm just sitting on the couch, per usual, watching the television with Freddie, who is braiding my hair and probably reading my diary as I write in it, so I'm going to be cautious with what I write this morning in case he tries to be nosy. (: < _

_Nothing is happening really, so I suppose I'll record everything that's going on. As mentioned before, Freddie is braiding my hair, Roger is in the kitchen making "breakfast" which is really just him pouring us bowls of cereal, and as for Brian? Actually, where the hell is he anyways? I actually think he's using the phone, but who knows! Anyways, Roger is about to bring us our breakfast, so I'm going to eat and write back to you soon. Cheers for now, Gwen!_

JD

     "Breakfast is served, big boys!" Roger said in a high-pitched girly voice, entering the living room and handing John and Freddie their bowls of cereal.

     "Thanks Roggie!" Freddie cheered, playfully jumping up to give Roger a kiss on the cheek. Roger giggled and wiped off the kiss, going back into the kitchen to grab the other cereal bowls for himself and Brian.

     "...Yes Mum, I know," Roger, John, and Freddie could hear Brian's voice coming from another room. He was on the phone, with his mum apparently. "I know, I know. And tell- okay Mummy. Tell Daddy I said hello too, please. Wait _what_? Today? Mum you just-! No, no, that's not what I'm saying, you're always welcome, but this is so...so _sudden_! Well, surely it will just be for the day, right? You didn't plan on- Oh you're not? Oh, okay, I just thought you would be- ah, I see. Well in that case, I'll tell the boys. Love you, Mum. Cheers."

     Roger, Freddie, and John all looked at each other in confusion as to what Brian was talking to his mother about.

     "Guys!" Brian yelled suddenly, sprinting into the living room. His hair was a wild mess and he was still in his astronaut-printed pajama bottoms and a plain white t-shirt. He was panting heavily, "My parents are coming over today!"

     "Uh, okay..? I fail to realize why this is such a big deal," Freddie shrugged nonchalantly, digging into his sugary cereal.

     "Be- _cause_ , Fred, this'll be you guys' first time meeting my folks, well not Roger's, but, ah! A-a-and...and look at this place!" Brian laughed hysterically, taking in the revolting scenery of what was the Living Room. T-shirts and boxers littered the floor, as well as soda cans, potato chip bags, dirty socks, a pink lacy bra... "It's a mess! My _parents_ will be here in just a few short hours and this place-!" Brian began quickly picking up cans and bottles and socks and throwing them into a corner of the living room to sort out later, all he knew was that he was growing hysterical by the second and the room was _disgusting_.

     Roger rolled his eyes at his poodle-haired best friend and sighed, "Oh, for fuck's sake Brian, _calm_ _down_. Sit down. Now. We'll eat first, then we'll clean up the place, then we'll all shower and get nice and tidy just for your folks, alright mate? Just sit and eat and we'll have this sorted out, man. Come on." Brian dropped the pink lacy bra out of his hands and slowly strolled over to the couch where his bandmates were sitting, uncomfortably sitting next to Roger and picking up his bowl of cereal.

     John couldn't understand _why_ Brian was acting like this. Sure, Brian did get very nervous easily and could get really hysterical at times, but it's usually over things _way_ bigger than this. Neither he or Freddie had ever met Brian's parents before, only Roger had, so maybe _that's_  why Brian is so nervous? John didn't know, but he would sure get to the bottom of it.

     After breakfast, while Freddie and Roger immediately began to pick up the rubbish on the floor, (those two could be annoying at times, but boy, were they the most helpful friends when it counted!) John pulled Brian to the side to talk to him about why he was so nervous. "Brian," he began, "What is going on with you? You've been acting all...weird ever since you heard your parents would be over. Is there... something else going on, Bri? You can tell me." He was contemplating on resting a comforting hand on Brian's arm, but he decided against it, as it would be too awkward and he didn't want to make Brian feel anymore uncomfortable.

     "Well..." Brian looked down at the carpet, then looked into John's blue-green eyes, then back down again. "The truth is... well. I'm really nervous, mostly about my dad. The last thing we did together was argued, and I'm too nervous to have to face him again. We argued because he didn't support me wanting to be a popstar. He would much rather see me succeed in astrophysics, so for him to see me toss it all away to become a guitarist... We didn't leave off on a good note. I haven't spoken to him in almost _three_ _years_ , Deacy. I just... I'm scared, sort of, that's all."

     It took a moment for John to take all of this in. "Ah, I understand now," he'd say to Brian. He now understood why Brian kept his guitar so close to him. It was the first thing he'd ever built with his dad. Brian loved his mum, of course, but he never had the relationship with her that he did with his father. That explains why Brian would always randomly tell the band stories of his childhood and memories with his dad. Stories of fishing, camping, photography, stargazing, all things he'd do with his dad... Brian would tell all of those stories for one simple reason; he missed his Daddy.

***

_Dear Gwen,_

_I thought I'd get another short entry in while we wait for Brian's parent's to get here. That was why he was on the phone earlier, by the way. They had just got home from their trip to France and decided to stop by our flat to see Brian and to have supper and to finally meet Freddie and I. They already know Roger, though. Brian has told us many great stories of his parents, some of his mum, but mostly of his dad. He admires his dad, really. It's a shame they haven't been exactly getting along. But oh well. Hopefully they will make up tonight. It seems Brian was really upset and very nervous and hysterical today, and I hate seeing him like this, so hopefully things will get better._

_As for myself, though, I am not really doing anything special lately. Me and the boys have another Big Gig soon, but it won't be as big as the one at my uni. We're gonna start rehearsing for it in a few days. Freddie even says he's got a new song written for us to learn to play. I can't wait to hear it. I realize now that a person with a boring life like mine should not be keeping a diary, for when I'm older and I read this I might just fall asleep! There's nothing_ interesting _going on around here these days, nothing juicy or out of the ordinary. Oh, well. I guess I've said everything I needed too. For now, Gwen._

JD

     After cleaning up the living room, or more specifically, throwing away all the trash and throwing the dirty clothes that littered the floor into a nearby closet, (besides the lacy pink bra, Roger picked it up and decided to keep it, stating that he might need it in the near future) the boys showered, got into their nice clothes, and waited for Brian's parents to arrive. Brian insisted they cook a nice dinner to welcome his parents, so he decided to take out some food to make a big veggie casserole with wine and fruit and other stuff. He decorated the table with a fancy table cloth (something the boys had bought for the house but never had the opportunity to use until now) and got to work with dinner. John was tired of sitting on his ass all day so he decided to help his crush with making the pasta, and soon, Freddie and Roger even came around to help cook as well. Brian's plan was to make dinner rolls, but by the time he set John and Freddie to run to the market and get them, he heard the familiar growl of his dad's car outside of the flat building.

     "Oh...oh no! The dinner rolls! What the hell am I supposed to do now? The dinner's not even done cooking, and I- the _dinner_ _rolls_!" Brian miserably slumped down in one of the chairs that sat at the dinner table, putting his face in his palms. "I'm a failure, oh god. I've never been like this before, what the _fuck_! Oh, well, I suppose we'll have dinner without the rolls. It's fine- I'm fine, really boys. Don't worry about me," it was pretty clear that Brian was even more hysterical than earlier, and John knew he needed to calm Bri down before a tiny explosion went off on the top of his head of thick curls.

     "Bri. Bri..." John began softly, sitting next to Bri and began to rub his back soothingly, feeling Brian's boniness underneath his fingertips. "It's okay, dear. You aren't a failure, relax. Me and Fred'll run to get the rolls, and you sit tight here and finish dinner. I'm sure your parents won't mind, surely they'll understand, _right_? I mean, they're you're _parents_  for Christ's sake-"

     Before John could finish whatever sentence he was trying to say to calm the hysterical Brian down, there was a loud obnoxious knock on the door.

     "Brian," a woman's voice boomed through the other side of the front door. You could hear a hint of Scottish in her accent, "Bri! My baby! I'm home son, it's me! Open up so I can see you and meet the boys!"

     "Bri, me and Fred'll run to the market really quickly to buy those rolls okay?" John's said softly over the loud banging and shouting from Brian's mother on the other side of the wall.

      "Alright Deacy, but _please_ , hurry. Mum!" Brian rolled his eyes, jogging to the door to open it for his mother. "Mummy I'm _coming_  you can stop banging on the door!" Bri laughed and opened the door for his mum, who was pretty much half her son's size.

      "My baby!" she yelled, entering the door and giving her tall, lanky son a tight squeeze. "Me and your father are home! Finally! We wanted to drop off all our luggage back at home, so that's our apologies for coming later than we said."

      "Actually, Mum, you're _earlier_  than what you said," Brian chuckled, "But that's alright. How was France?"

     "France?" John asked, putting his jacket on and preparing to leave. "You guys just came home from France? It seems like everything has been about France lately, huh?"

     When Brian's mother maid eye contact with John, she looked like she might have fainted. "And who is _this_ tall, dark, and handsome?" She immediately neglected her son to admire the long-haired John Deacon. "Boy, aren't you the looker! I'm Ruth, Brian's Mummy. Yes, he still calls me Mummy at his age, isn't that embarrassing? I'm sure you don't call your mum Mummy, do you gorgeous?"

     " _Mum_!"

     John tilted his head back and laughed, giving Brian and his mum a view of his adorable tooth-gap. "No, I'm afraid I don't call my mum Mummy anymore, but I don't think that means Brian shouldn't, do you Fred?" he turned to Freddie, who had witnessed the whole thing, and surprisingly hadn't made a comment of his own to embarrass Brian even more.

      "It's adorable, whatever, but I _must_ admit it is quite embarrassing! Nevertheless, Brian, your mother is a very pretty woman. It's nice to meet you, Ruth, I'm Freddie Mercury." he stretched his arm out to Ruth's, giving her small, delicate hand a firm shake. "And I agree, our baby Deacy is quite the model, isn't he?" He turned to John, giving him a wink. "We're going to head out to the market to get the dinner rolls, because we're idiots and started dinner too late."

     Now it was Ruth's turn to tilt her head back and laugh, "Oh that's fine, Freddie dear. I don't mind a little wait! I'll just make myself comfortable..." she wobbled over to the couch, making herself at home, taking off her shoes and laying back into the fluffy couch cushions. "By the way, you are quite the model yourself, Freddie."

     "Who's quite the model?" Roger asked, peaking his head through the kitchen doorway. Now when Ruth saw him, she gasped.

     "Well, you are, boy!" She went up to Roger and began pinching his cheeks. Normally this would've bothered Roger, but to see such a cute little lady like Brian's mummy so happy just to see him, it make him smile, causing the cheek-pinching to hurt even more. "Hi, Roggie! Well look at you, all grown up! It's been _years_ since I've seen you! How are you? How's your mum? You still do the drums, right? Well of course you do..."

     While Ruth marveled over Brian's best friend, Freddie and John went to the supermarket to get those dinner rolls. But something was missing. Well, more like _someone_. "Mum," Brian began, grabbing her attention away from the blonde drummer, who pouted when the cheek-pinching came to an end. "Mum, where's dad?"

     Ruth's face turned from confused to surprised. "Well he _has_  been in that damned car for a while, now, hasn't he? I'll go fetch him really quickly, and you boys can finish with supper." She ran to the front door, peaking her head out of it. Neither Roger or Brian could see this as they were inside, but Brian's father stood outside of the car, looking just as nervous as Brian was earlier. " _Harold_!" Ruth screamed at her husband, "What the hell are you doing, you've been out there for so long! It's cold, come inside and say _hello_ to your _son_!"

     "Sorry, dear, I was changing the radio stations!" Harold lied, approaching the door, "They were playing that disco crap again, so I was simply turning it to something more classical so... y'know..."

     "Harry; stop it. You and I both know it's bull," Ruth mumbled quietly to her dear husband, "You're just afraid to talk to Brian. I understand, as you two haven't spoken in years. Look, Harold, at the end of the day, he is still your boy. You love him. You know it, I know it, and so does he. You need to talk to him, okay?" Harold just nodded quietly, entering the doorway. His hazel met his own son's, and that was all it took.

     " _Daddy_!" Brian yelled, running to his old father, giving him a hug. _Ugh_ , he felt like he was a boy of five again, returning home from his very first school to tell his dad all about it. He felt like such a little kid, but in all honesty, he just missed his father. "I'm so sorry, Dad. For everything I said, I did, I-"

     "I should be the one apologizing, my boy," Harold said, stroking his son's hair. Although Brian and Harold were close, they never really got too emotional with each other, never really hugged or held each other, and Brian certainly hadn't called his father _Daddy_  in over a decade... but the time was very appropriate, and it touched both Ruth and Roger to see the father and son reuniting. "I should have supported you from the start, I know. But I get it now, I really do. I just didn't want my only son to throw his life away to become a queer popstar, that is all. I just want you to be happy. I hope you can forgive me, son."

     "Of course, Dad. Love you."

     "Love you too, son."

      Roger hadn't known that the dispute between Brian and his father was also regarding his bisexuality, but he figured it had to come up one way or another. " _Awwwwwww_!" he yelled obnoxiously from his seat on the couch next to Ruth, who was now sniffling and dabbing at her damp eyes with a handkerchief she pulled out of thin air. "This is so cute! Stay just like that and I'll get the camera- by the way, it's nice to see you again Mr. May!"

     "It's nice to see you too, Roger, but there's no need to get a camera," Harold chuckled, rubbing his son's back one more time before backing up to have a little space. "Where are your other two friend's Brian?"

     Brian sniffled, before croaking out, "They went to the market to get some dinner rolls."

 

**[MEANWHILE AT THE MARKET...]**

 

     John and Freddie stared at the variety of dinner roll brands that were displayed on the market's shelves. "Which one should we get?" John asked, not taking his eyes off of the numerous amount of rolls.

     Freddie, shrugging, replied, "Let's get 'em all, darling! The more, the merrier! " He turned to John, and John turned to him. They both shrugged at the same time, laughing evilly as they slid a box of each brand of dinner rolls into their shopping cart.

***

     By the time Freddie and John got home, Brian and Roger managed to finish cooking the rest of dinner (besides the rolls, of course) and Brian and Ruth even made a cake to pop in the oven for dessert. Ruth was ecstatic when she heard her son was finally getting into baking, because it is something she used to always try to do with him as a little boy, but Brian refused to do such things because it was _too_ _girly_.

     "So," Brian said blankly, hands on his hips when he saw Freddie and John enter the house, both with a full grocery bag in each hand. "I ask you to get _dinner_ _rolls_ , and you go and get other shit too? Wh-"

     "Language, Brian."

     "Sorry, Mummy. Now you two, explain _why_  and _how_  you failed to get dinner rolls and dinner rolls only. How do you screw that up, I mean really? I asked for one simple thing an-"

     "Brian relax," John said quietly, "We got dinner rolls."

     Roger scoffed, "Well surely those aren't _all_  dinner rolls, or that would be absurd!" He looked at Freddie and John, who both avoided his gaze, looking everywhere. They looked up, down, left, right, _everywhere_  but into Roger's harsh gaze. "Stop. You morons. Stop. Don't tell me you bought the  _entire_ fucking shelf!"

     "Oh, Roggie," Ruth shook her head, "Surely they didn't buy the _entire_ _shelf_ Right boys?" She turned to Freddie and John from her seat at the dinner table where she patiently waited for her supper to be served, neither Freddie or John looking her in the eye. Both boys just kinda looked at each other, and it seemed as though they were trying not to laugh. " _Right_?"

     "I suppose we got a little carried away," Freddie admitted, putting the 13 boxes of dinner rolls on the kitchen counter. "But it wasn't the _entire_  shelf. Just about half of it. Pity, that was all our money too."

     "Either way, we entered and left the store with lots of bread," John joked, and wasn't really surprised when no one laughed or reacted at all.

     Roger and Brian stared in awe at the dozen of boxes of dinner rolls that sat innocently on the counter. There was no way these _idiots_  actually bought 13 boxes of bread and thought that it was a good, responsible, and smart idea. There was just no way. "You fucking _cretins_!" Roger screamed, grabbing chunks of his blond hair and pulling them in frustration. "Did you actually- oh my _god_!"

     "Roger, calm. _Down_ ," Brian said quietly, for Roger was doing a very good job at embarrassing him in front of his poor parents. Surely they didn't want to hear Roger's filthy mouth, or his screaming. "It's okay, Rog. It's good they got extra, we can use it another time." Although Brian had only instructed the two to get enough rolls for _one_ _dinner_.

     "No! I just- I can't! Whose idea was this again? You- you _idiots_!"

     "Settle down, Taylor, I'm sure we can make use for the extra," Harold said to Roger in a stern voice, sipping his glass of wine. Roger angrily threw one of the boxes of dinner rolls to the kitchen floor, and Brian grabbed his mum and dad by the arms, ushering them out of the kitchen. He was afraid all hell was about to break loose, over some damned dinner rolls. _Oh no_ , John thought.

     "Whose idea was this? _Whose_! Brian gave you dumbasses _very_  simple directions and you still managed to fuck it up! How? _How_?"

     "It was Freddie's idea," John mumbled quietly.

     " _Mine_! Traitor! I've been betraye-"

     "This is not a fucking joke, Fredrick!"

     The poor stressed-looking boy with the wild head of curls returned to the kitchen, where Roger looked like he would have slapped either John or Freddie, or both at the same time. He grabbed a hold of Roger just as he was about to charge and angrily knock down more boxes, carrying the smaller man outside (with no effort!) and literally locking him out of the flat. "Open the door, you ass!" Brian could hear Roger's angry shouts from outside muffling through the walls, but he didn't let him in. He couldn't let Roger ruin another night with his anger issues, especially not in front of his parents.

     "You can come in once you've calmed down, ya twat!" Brian yelled at Roger from the other side of the door. "Mum, Dad, I'm so sorry. This was supposed to be a peaceful night and-"

     "It's okay, son," Ruth interrupted her son quickly, "just come sit and have dinner. We can check on Roger in a few minutes. He'll be alright, I'm sure."

     "I'm really sorry, Bri," John blurted out, "Freddie and I weren't thinking. We were being silly at the time and we thought it would be funny to buy a bunch of dinner rolls and-"

     "John. John. It's fine. Just... I'll go warm up some of the rolls and we can eat. Okay?" Brian said, stressfully rubbing his forehead.

     "Sorry, Brian," Freddie added, sitting down quietly. This was probably the first time Freddie actually apologized for something he fucked up. "It was quite stupid of me and Deacy to get all those boxes. And he was right, it was my idea."

     "Great," Harold began, "Now that we've all kissed and made up, can we eat? I'm starving!" Everyone laughed, Brian and John sitting down to eat.

***

     John was enjoying dinner, he really was. But there was something missing.

     "Excuse me," he started, getting up from his seat at the table.

     "John," Brian frowned, "Where are you going?"

     "I'm going outside. To go see Roger."

     "Oh."

     John walked over to the door before he heard Brian's voice again. "John," Deacy turned around to face Brian, who was sitting at the dinner table drinking his wine, "Can you talk to Rog for me? Tell him I'm really sorry for kicking him out, and that he can come back inside to eat with the rest of us."

     This made John smile. _Wow_ , he thought, _Brian is such a sweetheart._  "Okay," he replied to Brian's request. Walking outside, he looked both ways outside of the flat and saw no sign of Roger. If they were anywhere else, John would have panicked, but there was a special place Roger liked to go to when he was angry, so he went to look there first. Surely enough, Roger was sitting on the tall hill behind the flat building, where you could look out and see a small fancy lake where all the local ducks lived. The wind blew through Roger's blond hair, the sun making not only his hair, but his skin, appear to be a light golden color. _Ah_ , John thought, taking in the scenery before climbing up the hill to meet with Roger, _the golden hour_. He finally reached the top of the tall hill, sitting next to Roger and saying nothing. They sat like this for a few minutes until Roger, surprisingly, was the first to speak up.

     "I'm sorry," was all he said, calmly, before shaking his head of blond locks and bringing his knees up to his chest.

     "I wanted to check on you," John answered, "because it feels weird in there without you. I hated how everyone in there could just eat, laugh, and joke knowing you were kicked out here in the cold all alone. But apparently Bri was thinking about you too, because he said he was really sorry for kicking you out and he wants you to come back inside and have dinner with the rest of us."

     "Brian did the right thing for kicking me out," Roger chuckled quietly, "Or else I would have destroyed the kitchen out of pure rage. Thinking back on it now, you and Freddie buying all those dinner rolls was quite hilarious. I was ridiculous for blowing my top over something like that, and I have no idea what got into me. I'm really sorry, John."

     "It's okay, Roger, I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were good. Are you going to come back inside and eat dinner with the rest of us?"

     "Y'know," Roger began, ignoring John's question entirely, "Sometimes I feel like a man on fire. I get so angry and let the smallest things turn into something massive. There's no way in hell something like that should have pissed me off so much. Maybe I should have gone to those therapy sessions."

     "Well, Roger, it's over now. You can come back inside and- wait what? Therapy sessions? For what?"

     Roger shook his head, "For my anger issues, wise one. Thought that was pretty transparent. One time I blew up at my cousin right before my birthday and he gave me paperwork for an anger management class. For my birthday. He did it as a joke, but it was an asshole thing for him to do. I blew up at him again for that, of course." John couldn't help but snort, "But now I'm considering the class. When I'm angry, John, I turn into another person. It's like I have no control over my body, like I'm possessed." All John had to do was turn to Roger and he could see the fear and the pain in his eyes. "I don't like the feeling, John. I wanna be the one with the control, not my anger." His hands were shaking, that golden color from the sun that glowed upon everything in the town earlier was now gone and his hands were pale now, almost white. John grabbed both of Rogers hands into his own, and Roger leaned forward, sobbing into John's chest, his entire body shaking.

***

     By the time John and Roger both returned back inside, it had been an hour since John first went outside to get Roger, and everyone inside was finished with supper. Ruth, Harold, and Brian were cleaning up the table, while Freddie did the dishes and sang loudly, _"Dee, da-de-dooo, da-de-deyyy, deyyy-o_!"

     Ruth turned around from where she was wiping the dinner table to find Roger and John both walking into the kitchen, and she jumped, surprised. "Oh, boys! I hadn't even heard you come in over Freddie's loud screaming!"

     "Screaming!" Freddie scoffed, playfully flicking soapy water at Ruth. Brian was about to scold Freddie for that, until he heard his mum laugh loudly at the gesture. "You could only dream of having _these_  vocals! Oh, Roger, we've saved you a plate, darling! I even saved you the last bit of wine! It took some convincing though."

     Roger, eyes still a bit puffy from crying, said, "Actually, I'm not hungry. But I do owe you all an apology." The entire kitchen got quiet after this, everyone turning to Roger to hear his apology. "I'm so sorry. To everyone, for everything. I shouldn't have blown up over something like that. It was quite childish of me. I hope you can all forgive me."

     Brian was the first to accept Roger's apology, going up to him to give him a hug, "We forgive you, mate." Deacy was next to follow, going behind Brian and wrapping his arms around Brian's skinny torso (of course!), his arms just barely reaching Roger's sides. Then Ruth was next to join in on the group hug, then Harold joined in, and last was Freddie, hands covered in bubbly soap, going behind Roger and ruffling his blond friend's hair, getting soap all in the golden locks. Roger felt so overwhelmed, he wasn't sure whether to laugh at the soapy bubbles dripping down his forehead, or to cry at the feeling of his apology being so easily accepted by everyone despite the way he blew up and them earlier.

     The fabulous group hug somehow ended up in Roger grabbing a handful of bubbles from the top of his head and flicking it at Freddie, who retreated to the kitchen sink to grab more bubbles and fling them at Roger, accidentally missing Roger and hitting Brian in the face instead. Brian yelled, "Bubble fight!" and soon, everyone in the kitchen was covered in bubbles.

***

_Dear Gwen,_

_Today was quite insane. Brian's folks came to our flat almost uninvited, but they did give us a warning that they'd be over so we had enough time to make a nice dinner. We had to get dinner rolls, Freddie and I, but we bought a ridiculous amount because we thought it would be funny. Roger blew up at us, but that's okay since we apologized. Before Roger told me how hard it was to deal with his anger issues, I saw him as a wild, angry, but small beast that needed to be tamed. Almost like a werewolf, how they only turn into wolves during a full moon, Roger was a human that only turns into a beast when he's angry, I suppose._

_What I hadn't known about today was that Brian had a very important announcement to make. He decided that last night was the perfect night to tell us all, since his own parents would be there to hear it too. Brian is the founder of our band, Queen, formally known as Smile, so most of the time he gets any calls that have to do with the band. Freddie does too, occasionally, but mainly Brian does. Although Fred's the lead singer of our band, it seems most of our followers consider Brian to be the leader. He makes a great leader too._

_So what he had to tell us today was that the band's savings had finally went over the amount we needed to buy twelve hours of studio time! So we'd have the money to buy the time, and have extra too! We should start recording tomorrow. And it works in our favor, too. We can use as much time as we need for this, even if it takes more than a day. So for example, we can use three hours of studio time everyday for the next four days, or we could use an hour everyday for twelve days if we wanted to. We had that privilege._

_I'm very happy about this, but the problem is, I'm just not sure twelve hours is enough for us. Freddie and Brian want to record an entire album in that short amount of time, and I'm just not sure it's enough. We've already got down all the songs and melodies, hell, we've played them before, but what if we want to add extra things to the songs to make them sound better? What if one of us thinks of an amazing song before tomorrow and we'll need more than the time given to perfect it? I've been trying to talk Brian into waiting, to let us save a little more so we can buy more studio time, but he refuses. "We've been saving for a year and a half," he says, "and twelve hours should be plenty of time to record an album. We just have to be quick about it. No arguing, which I know will be impossible with Freddie in Roger in the room, but we can get it done. Don't worry, John." He says this and I believe him, but I don't know... I'm still worried._

_Anyways, the cake that Brian and his lovely mum Ruth made was delicious. It wasn't anything special, just a plain vanilla flavored cake with plain white icing, but it was still scrumptious. Brian's parent's left at about 11 pm tonight, which was only a half an hour ago, but it's felt like that was hours ago. I guess time flies by when you're bored in your room doodling and writing poems about your crush in your journal. Hm. I wonder what Brian's doing._

JD

 

**[THE NEXT DAY...]**

 

     "Brian, that's _not_  how it goes!" John was sick of recording already, and they hadn't even been recording for an hour yet. Brian and Freddie were already arguing. "It goes, 'nyi-nyi nyi-nyi,' not ' _nyi nyi nyi nyi_ '!"

     "What's the bloody difference!" Roger yelled, throwing his drumsticks down. "It sounds better the way Brian's doing it, Fred!"

     "But we've never played it like 'nyi nyi nyi nyi!' Now he wants to do it because," Freddie pinched his nose to imitate Brian's nasally voice, _"'It's a professional record, Fred, we can be a bit more creative here than on stage!'_ We'll I don't care about being creative! Wait! No wait, _don't_  get me wrong, I love creativity, but not with this song! We're playing it like 'nyi-nyi nyi-nyi' not ' _nyi nyi nyi nyi'_! Sometimes I wonder how you even call yourself a guitarist!"

     Brian scoffed, rolling his eyes, "Then you can play it better, I bet? No! You can't! If I wanna be creative with _my_  song, then I can! You're the singer, remember? Stick to that!"

     "Brian. We've got all these songs to _be_ _creative_ with, and you wanna ruin this one? It sounds better my way, _and you know it_! Tell him, John!"

     "Wait, _what_?" John looked around, panicked. He didn't know what to say. Honestly, the guitar riff that Freddie wanted sounded just as good as the one Brian wanted in John's opinion. They were both good, but neither boys wanted to hear it. He clutched Gwen close to his chest, "Whoa, don't get me involved in your quarrels! I like both riffs, can we please just pick one and play the song!"

     "If none of us can decide on a _bloody_  riff," Roger began, folding his arms, "Then we'll have a vote. All in favor of Brian's riff, raise your hand." Brian and Roger raised their hands. Brian smirked at Freddie. "Now all in favor of Freddie's." Freddie raised his hand immediately, turning to John. John didn't like this vote because he knew it was unfair, and it would upset Freddie, which he hated. He also knew that if he didn't raise his hands in the next two seconds, Freddie would murder him. So he raised his hand. Freddie smirked at Brian.

     "Well, I supposed we're tied. So that doesn't settle it," Freddie said, trying his best not to smile.

     Roger scoffed, "But that's not fair! Deacy didn't even want your riff, he just raised his hand because he's scared of you!"

     " _Scared_?" John asked, getting up off of the stool he was sitting in and walking over to Roger, getting _very_  close to his face, "Is that why you kiss Brian's ass all the time?" Oh no.

     Roger stood up angrily, " _I_  kiss Brian's ass all the time? Ha! You're the one who kisses his ass all the time! That damned restaurant, last night when his parents were home. I bet," Roger scoffed for the fiftieth time that day, "I bet you write about him in that stupid journal of yours!" Oh, if only he knew. "' _Dear Diary Deacon,"_ Roger imitated John, _"Oh I just love Brian May! Oh, I love you, poodleman! I want you to buttfuck me all day!_ " He made grabby hands for the journal that was in John's hand. "Gimme it, fucking loser!" Luckily, John was able to yank it out of Roger's hands before he stole it and read everything in it aloud. Roger shook his wild head of blond hair, charging at John.

     "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa!" Brian yelled, blocking Roger's fist just in time before it made contact with John's face. "None of this stupid _shit_! We'll do Fred's riff, alright? Just quit fighting! John doesn't want me to buttfuck him!" Tears streamed down Brian's face now, "We're always fighting and I'm sick of it! You win Freddie, and Roger, since you seem to hate any sort of compromising!"

     Roger felt really guilty now. He had let his anger get to him yet again. "Oh no, Bri," he said softly, though his chest was still heaving. He went over to hug his sobbing best friend, who was sitting on the floor, head in his hands. "I'm sorry. I got angry again. Shit."

     "It's okay to have feelings," Brian said, wiping his eyes, "but you don't need to insult people and use violence. Ugh, oh, I feel like a baby for crying like this, I was just so nervous about today and I got no sleep and I'm still very tired and cranky and-"

     "Shhh." Freddie went over to join the grouphug. John remained standing, still very angry at Roger. The three boys broke from the grouphug, Roger being the last to stand. "Come here, dork. You know I know that you don't want Brian to buttfuck you. Gimme a hug."

John pouted, going over and giving Roger a hug anyways. "For the record, Roger, I don't call my diary 'Diary Deacon.' I call her Gwen.

Freddie snorted before Roger added, "How long have we been here for? I want to call it a day, we'll come back tomorrow and finish the song."

     "It's only been about an hour, but I agree, we should just call it a day. None of us really got any sleep last night, anyways," Freddie said. "Oh and by the way, Brian," he added reluctantly, "if you really do wanna play your riff for the song. We can."

     Brian didn't even try to hide his smile, "Thanks Fred. Let's go out to eat, I'm starving."

     The boys all checked out of the studio and drove to some fast food place that specialized in vegetarian burgers. Brian didn't really like the taste of them, but oh well. John left his wallet, and instead of one of the boys buying him a burger and then having John return the money later, Roger and John decided to share a meal. Roger fed John fries and giggled as he tried to toss the smaller fries into John's mouth. They also shared a large milkshake, putting two straws in the cup and joke-arguing over who would eat the fake cherry once all the ice cream had been drank. They decided that Roger could eat the cherry since John got most of the fries, and John fed it to him like he was a baby being fed a lemon by evil parents. The entire time, Brian just watched them, feeling a tight feeling in his stomach. He was suddenly upset with Roger. He had absolutely no idea why, they were fine right after their argument, so _why_  was he feeling this way? He turned back to Roger, who licked off the red juice from the cherry off of John's finger, and it all came to him. He was jealous.


	6. Fireworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***READ NOTES PLEASE!!***

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! I can't believe it has taken me months to finish the last chapter of this!! I don't have any excuses as to why it took so long, I was just being really lazy and procrastinating, lmao. Also I wanted to get this out on Freddie's birthday, but like I said, I was being lazy lmao. So sorry I took so long. 
> 
> SPOILERS BELOW!!
> 
> ALSO, when you get to the very bottom of the story, it will talk about the naked, curly haired boy in John's bed, which if it isn't obvious, is an implication that John had his "first time" ... with Brian. Okay, enjoy!! BYE!!!!

     John blinked his eyes, getting used to the sunlight casting through his bedroom window. He smiled at the new lime-green curtains that hung on his window. He got them a few weeks ago for his birthday. He rubbed his eyes, taking in the familiar scenery of his bedroom. The nice wooden dresser with the big mirror above it, Gwen lying on the bright orange-brown wood, all of his new textbooks from school, (which had started a week ago) until his eyes rested on the calendar hanging on his wall. September 5th. Wait. _September 5th-_

     "Wake uuuupppp!" Freddie sang (loudly) up the stairs. Deacy rolled his eyes, knowing that he had no choice but to get up now. "You know what today is! Up, up, up, everybody up! Get dressed, we're going out for breakfast!"

     "Good morning to you too Fred," Brian chuckled, rubbing his eyes as he lazily dragged himself down the stairs, nearly falling on the way.   
  
     "Roger! Deacy! Up-up-up-up-up! Rise and shine ladies!"   
  
     "Oh shut up you ol' jackass," Roger croaked, following Brian down the stairs. His blond hair was a wild mess, making it look like a lion's mane, and he really did look like a little lion, shirtless with tan sweatpants on.

     "I guess you didn't listen when I told you to get dressed," Freddie said, scoffing at Roger's... lack of clothing.

     John was last to come downstairs. Brian watched him happily trot down the stairs, his chestnut-colored hair flowing behind him, the way he nearly drowned in his too-big silk baby-blue pajamas. His skin was glowing and his eyes were sparkling. Needless to say, he looked _perfect_. It baffled Brian how someone could wake up looking as gorgeous as John Deacon did right at that very second. John immediately ran over to Freddie, handing him a tiny white box with a cute little bow on top. "Happy birthday, Freddie," he smiled, giving his best friend a hug.

     Freddie wanted to scold John too for not getting dressed, but he was too excited about opening his gift. "Thank you Deacy! Oh god, I love it and I don't even know what it is! This is so overwhelming," He turned to Brian and Roger, sarcastically adding, "Thank you for the gifts, boys, I don't know what I'd do without you."

     "A hug is the greatest gift you can get from me," Brian said, going up to Freddie and giving him the most half-assed hug of the century, barely touching him and patting him lightly on the back.

     "I'll say," John mumbled to himself, Freddie being the only one that heard his remark. He just turned to John, curious as to what he meant by that, and then turning back to Brian.   
  
     "Roger go get dressed," Freddie said, trying not to sound hurt over Brian's half-hug. He wasn't upset because he didn't receive gifts from his friends, besides Deacy, as he wasn't picky and would be thankful for literally anything, but that hug really stabbed him in the heart. Little did Freddie know, his friends were only _pretending_  not to care about their frontman's birthday. They had something special planned later.

     Roger huffed and stormed up the stairs, going into the bathroom and slamming the door. The only thing you could hear was the shower running.

     "What's his deal?" Freddie asked, turning to Brian. Brian just shook his head, his mesmerizing curls bouncing back and fourth.

     "His girlfriend."

     "Wait, he has a _girlfriend_?"  
  
     "He _had_  a girlfriend. They broke up. They lasted about a month. That was Roger's longest relationship."

     "Oh, well that makes sense. Brian, why, if you don't mind me asking, did they break up?"

     "Remember that night at the gig at John's school? When you and Rog came home with those two girls?"

     "Ohhhh... Dear."

     "Yeah. She found out Roger cheated on her. So she ended it last night."

     Aw, no. Deacy sat awkwardly, listening to Brian and Freddie's short intercourse. He felt so sad for Roger, he really did love that girl. Her name was Jo Morris and she was very pretty and nice, although he had only met her once. _But_ , he thought to himself, _Roger_ did _cheat, so. I suppose that's what he gets._

     "Bri, is it bad that I don't feel bad for Roger? I mean he _did_ cheat-"

     John shook his head, quickly changing the subject, "Fred, aren't you going to open your gift? I'm getting anxious."   
  
     Freddie looked down at his hand, which was still holding the tiny white box John had given him just moments before. "Oh that's right. I'll open it now." He slowly lifted the lid off the box to reveal a beautiful charm bracelet with the shiniest little charms on it. There was a tiny microphone, a cat, a high heel, (..?) the letter F, and last but not least, a star.

     "Five charms," Deacy beamed, proud of himself, "For September 5th."

     "Oh, Deacy-darling!" Freddie cheered, smiling bright. "I love it! Oh, it's gorgeous. It fits me perfectly!" He put on his bracelet and crashed into John, giving him a big hug and nearly knocking him over. "Thank you," he added quietly. "It's lovely."

     "Of course Fred," John said, leaning into Freddie's hug, "anything for my best friend."

     "Aww," Brian said quietly, smiling at the exchange between Freddie and Deacy, "That is so sw-"

     "Shut up!" Roger yelled from upstairs, a towel around his waist, his blond hair wet and sticking to his forehead. Steam followed him out of the bathroom door as he stomped to his room.

     "Oh dear."

***

 _Dear Gwen,_  
  
_Today is Freddie's birthday and I am very excited. We're in the van right now, on our way to Freddie's favorite restaurant. He has gone there every year for breakfast on his birthday since he's moved to England, and has recently let us (Bri, Rog, and I) in on the tradition after joining the band. The restaurant isn't even fancy, it's a cheap little wooden building with only two windows and uncomfortable seats. But hey, it's Fred's favorite. They have amazing food anyways. I technically have school today, but I'm skipping to celebrate Freddie's day. I'll just have to pray they don't call my parents and ask why I'm absent._

_JD_

     When the boys arrived at the restaurant, thank god, Roger's attitude had calmed down a bit. He was quite cheery, actually. He had only calmed down after carefully listening to Freddie's reminder that there are plenty of fish in the sea, and that Roger could get anyone he wanted anyways. The breakfast they ordered was great, and since they were the only ones at the restaurant, the waiters gave them dessert free of charge. It was very kind. They had no room for dessert, but it was still very kind. They had left at about 3 o'clock P.M. _That still gives us about five hours,_  John thought.

     Since they had so much time to wait until _it_  started, the boys decided to fool around the local mall, going into different stores and buying clothing, accessories, shoes, even stage costumes for their show. Brian mentioned that he was running out of hair product, (it was usually gone in a week because of all that damned hair) so he bought some of that too. They made Freddie pay for nothing, and Freddie got the most clothes. When they were finally done shopping, they hung out in the lobby downstairs right by the mall's front glass doors, the one with the nice, plush, red velvet couches that people fought over and tried to get a seat in for hours, John looked up and all around him, and the bright neon lights and signs that hung everywhere around the mall. That was what made the Washington Mall so magical. There were no big bright lights hanging from the ceiling or in lamps around the 3 story mall, or any normal lights at all. The entire joint was lit up by neon signs.

     Looking outside, John noticed that it was getting dark and that they should probably start leaving out, because _it_  was set to happen at 8 P. M. "Guys, I think it's time we start heading to where we're gonna go," Deacy said, turning to the boys, who were "play-fighting" over a furry jacket that Roger bought that Freddie really wanted and decided he was entitled to because it was his birthday.

     "Just go back to the store we were in and buy a-fucking-nother one," Roger laughed, yanking the coat out of Freddie's hand, "Just don't get the same color as me."

     "You bastard," Freddie cackled, yanking the coat back, "You know that was the last of it's kind in the store. If I go back, I'll be on a wild goose chase!"

     "Seriously, guys, I don't think we have time to waste. I told you we had to be there at eight," John said, growing impatient. John had planned this whole thing out for Freddie and could not _afford_ to even be late. Literally. This thing costed 190 pounds, he wasn't wasting a single pound on bad-timing. "We're going."

     As the boys got up to leave the mall, Brian whispered in John's ear, "Does Freddie know?"

     "No, and don't you _dare_ tell him."

     "Geez, okay, I won't. But I can't make any promises that Rog won't. He's got a big mouth."

***

     They finally got to the place where _it_ would be happening, in other words, the-firework-show-that-John-payed-for-using-all-of-his-allowance-and-leftover-birthday-money-that-Freddie-had-no-idea-was-happening-and-don't-you-dare-fucking-tell-him. The place wasn't anything _super_  special, but it was really pretty, to be fair. It was just a really big lake with a nice white bridge that went across the whole thing. The bridge was typically lit up by yellow fairy lights all across the _entire_  thing.

     Finally, it was about 7:55. The show would be starting in 5 minutes. It was lovely outside weather-wise, it wasn't scorching hot but it wasn't freezing cold either. The sky was a dark blue color, nearly black, and while both John and Brian equally loved the sky to be littered with stars, it was clear that night, which was good for the firework show. The guys walked down right to the middle of the bridge in the middle of the lake and stood side by side, and by then, the show was set to start in a minute.

     "What the hell is this?" Freddie asked, curious, "This place is lovely, boys, really, but I can't even see shit in the lake because it's so fucking dark. I don't think it's safe to go swimming right now either, beca- oh _shit_!"

     The first firework _bursted_  into the air, cutting Freddie off mid-sentence and scaring the living _shit_  out of all four boys. John quickly whipped his head around, and sure enough, the boat with the firework-operator-guys was sitting still by a dock on the other side of the lake. Then soon, more bursted into the air, and more, and more. Freddie _wooted_  and _cheered_  alongside Roger, jumping up in the air and pointing to the more beautiful, large, and colorful fireworks that stood out to him.

     John smiled happily to himself, proud that he was able to plan all of this for Freddie and have it turn out right. He didn't even notice Brian coming up right next to him, leaning on the bridge, watching the magic happen. "This is great, John," he began, "I can't believe you planned all of this for Freddie on your own."

     "Yeah, well," John blushed shyly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind his ear. _Ew_ , he thought, _did I just do that_? "I just thought I'd do something nice for Fred. He deserves it anyways, he's a great friend."

     "Well you're a great friend," Brian replied, "for doing this." John turned to Brian and grinned, tooth gap and all. This left Brian not knowing whether to scream or cry or cheer. He just decided with smiling back.

     Freddie joined Brian and John's conversation, Roger following, as the fireworks still continued to make their large booms and crackling noises, probably angering some old lady trying to sleep somewhere. "Thank you for this, Deacs!" Freddie cried, running up to John and squeezing him in what only could be recognized as a best-friend-hug. "This is great, I love this. I love you!"

     "I love you too, Fred," John replied happily, hugging his best friend back. He was so distracted by all the happy energy radiating around him that he fucking forgot about the cake in the trunk of the van. _Oh, shit_ , he thought. Thank god it wasn't _nearly_ as hot as it had been earlier, or the damned cake would have melted. "Gotta run to the car, I'll be right back."

     Freddie frowned, looking into John's eyes for an explanation, "But you'll miss the fireworks!" he pouted, "I'm sure it can wait?"

     "There's about fifteen more minutes of this shit, I'm sure I won't miss too much," John replied to Freddie's plea, "But the more time we waste, the more I'll miss! Be right back!" he quickly ran back to the van, opening the back door where Freddie's (not melted, yay!) birthday cake sat safely inside. _Happy Birthday, Fred,_  the cake read. Boring, right? To be fair, John, Brian, nor Roger could think of something original to put on the cake. At least nothing original that was also _appropriate_ , cough, cough, _Roger_. At least the edible flower decorations on the cake were nice.

     When John returned to the bridge with four paper plates and the cake that he had to not only light up, but carry back to the bridge without accidentally dropping it and starting a fire, the fireworks were _still_  going. Since it was a private light-show thingy, they didn't have to limit the show to, like, ten minutes or anything. The thing could have lasted an hour if they wanted to, but John thought thirty minutes was appropriate for a birthday firework show, and twenty-three of those minutes had already been used up. John sat Freddie's lit up cake on the ledge of the bridge, (which was purposely made wide enough to fit food on it for any visitors, yay!) and got everyone's attention.

     "Gentlemen, and Roger, may I please have your attention?" John asked jokingly, and the boys approached the lit-up cake, Freddie beaming the whole time, "I believe it's someone's birthday, so let us harmonize!"

     "No," Roger groaned, "please don't make us sing that fucking song."

     "Listen, I'll sing the song to myself if I have to, and you _know_ I will," Freddie joked, pretending to open his mouth to begin singing.

     "No, we're all gonna sing, and quickly, before these candles melt completely."

      _Happy Birthday to you,_  
 _Happy Birthday to you,_  
 _Happy Birthday dear Mercury,_  
 _Happy Birthday to you!_

     "You wanker!" Roger finished off, digging his hand into a corner of Freddie's cake and slapping it onto Freddie's face. All the boys cackled loudly, Freddie grabbing his own fistful of cake and smashing it into Roger's cheek, getting icing in his hair and everything. The boys ended the night off eating cake and throwing icing at each other, watching the grand finale of the fireworks and simply having a great time.

  
***

  
      _The morning after Freddie's birthday, Roger was the first to get up and get dressed. Freddie was sleeping wildly, with one leg hanging off of his bed and his shirt ridden up so high that you could see his entire chest, and Brian slept a lot less wildly on his own bed, adorably nuzzling his nose into the crook of his neck. Without being a complete asshole, Roger woke up both Freddie and Brian who equally and quite surprisingly got up and got dressed for the day without a fight. He decided not to wake John up, as John planned Freddie's entire birthday yesterday and deserved to sleep in. The boys made sure to quietly go downstairs to make themselves breakfast and write songs or do whatever they chose to do that Friday morning, when Roger spotted something quite familiar sitting on a tiny wooden desk next to the telly._ Gwen _, the object sitting on the little desk read. It was a blue book with stickers and designs on it obviously decorated by John, and in case you still don't get the picture, it was none other that John's diary. Or journal, whatever._

 _"Roger, don't you dare," Freddie said, noticing how quietly still Roger stood in front of the desk. The book was crying out to them,_ Read me! I have all of John Richard Deacon's secrets in here! He used to talk shit about Roger and Freddie and he's got an obsessive crush on Brian! Oh please, please open me!

 _"Oh come on," Roger replied, "There can't be anything_ too bad  _in there! Besides, don't you wanna know what he's been so busy writing in there anyways? Don't you, Brian?" Roger asked, turning to Brian._

 _Bri just quietly looked away, guilty that he_ did _want to know what secrets were being held captive in that little blue book. Brian had really wanted to know if and what John was saying about_ him _, because he was dying to know how John felt about him. More specifically, if he felt the same way Brian had felt about him. "Well, Roger, it isn't right to look-"_

_"Oh come on!" Roger repeated._

_"_ But _," Brian continued, "I do kinda want to know. What he wrote, I mean," he nibbled at his lower lip._

_"Don't you dare!" Freddie said, reaching for the book, but Roger had swiped it too soon. "Roger, give it to me."_

_"_ No _! I just wanna read one page, please, just one page, that's all-"_

_"It isn't right, and you know it! It's an invasion of John's privacy!" Freddie pounced in front of Roger, but Roger held the book above his head, running away from Freddie. "Stop, give me the fucking book!"_

_"What if it's a call for help?" Roger asked, still avoiding Freddie._

_"A fucking call for help," Freddie scoffed, "You're just trying to be nosy! Brian help me!"_

_"I- um..." Brian replied, watching the two shorter men (quietly) chase each other around the tight living room. "Well, I mean, we probably shouldn't, Rog."_

_Roger had ran into a corner of the living room, quickly pushing a chair in front of himself to separate Freddie from him. "_ Dear Diary _," Roger began, "Ugh, I told him, it's a fucking journal not a diary._ If that's what you even are. I got you as an early gift fro _-"_

_"Okay," Freddie said, putting his hands up, "I surrender. We'll fucking read the thing. Just move the chair."_

_"Like I trust you!" Roger exclaimed, in response._

_"No, I'm serious, Roger, we'll read it. Come on Bri," Freddie gestured towards Brian, who was still standing in the same spot near the tiny wooden desk across the living room, "We'll read it."_

***

     John woke up to a suspiciously quiet household. There was no school for him, and quite obviously, the other boys don't go to school anymore, so he was expecting that the others would be awake by then. _Maybe they're sleeping in_ , John decided, getting out of bed and deciding to get dressed and then go make himself breakfast. When he went downstairs however, he found out that the boys were actually awake, they were all awkwardly squished in a corner, and lo and behold, Roger was holding Gwen in his hands. _Shit_ , John thought, as his eyes met Brian's. _Well now he knows._

     "Uh, guys-"

     " _I honestly don't think I would have had as good of a time as I did tonight if Freddie and Roger were here_." Roger began reading, angrily. His face was a bright angry shade of red, and Freddie just looked down at his feet, disappointed and sad. Brian's face was unreadable, he looked guilty, but not sad or angry like the others. " _They always cause disruption everywhere they go, they're both loud, obnoxious, and just horrible. Every time we go out in public, those losers just embarrass me so much_. Seriously, John? Are you fucking kidding me?"

     "Guys. Roger, Freddie, Brian, I'm really sorry. I just-"

     " _I saw him as a wild, angry, beast that needed to be tamed_ ," Roger continued reading from another paged he quickly flipped to in the diary. "I should have never fucking had that discussion with you! Ever! I told you things I've never even told _Brian!_ and Brian's my true fucking best friend! Not _you_!" Roger yelled, pointing an angry finger at Brian, "And then you go and say that shit about me in your little fucking diary? I'm not perfect, but I'm fucking _trying,_ okay?" Roger was screaming now, and there were unmistakably tears streaming down his red face. John felt like absolute shit.

     "I'm sorry," John said quickly, "So sorry. About what I said about you, and Freddie, and you too Brian-"

     "Oh don't apologize to _Brian_!" Roger yelled tears still streaming down his face, "You didn't say anything horrible about _Brian_! _Brian_ is a puh-fect sweetheart who doesn't do anything fucking wrong! You even wrote it in this book! Brian's perfect and you're in love with him and I'm just an angry beast that needs to be tamed, Freddie obnoxious and horrible! You wrote it here in this very book! So don't apologize to _Brian_!"

     "Roger," John began, carefully going up to Roger to try to calm him down. "I'm very sorry. _I'msofuckingsorry_. Really I am," and he truly was sorry, "I won't write in the book anymore, I'll throw it away, I'll burn it, I promise, I just-"

     "You just what?" Freddie finally spoke up quietly, sounding pained.

     "You can take your little book," Roger said, _coldly_ , "And shove it up your ass." He shoved the book into John's chest, stomping up the stairs, "Let's go, Freddie." Freddie sadly followed Roger up the stairs, head down the entire time.

     "Freddie, _please_!" John cried after Freddie, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I love you, I didn't mean any of it, I was angry at the time, _please_!" But Freddie ignored him, continuing up the stairs until he disappeared into Roger's bedroom, leaving John and Brian alone in the living room.

     "Bri," John said, facing Brian, who had a blank expression on his face. "I'm really sorry about everything I wrote in there. I just- I was angry when I wrote some of the things in there. I didn't think anyone was going to read it!"

     "The point of a diary," Brian began, "or a journal or whatever, is that it's meant to be private. You're supposed to write your feelings in there. While I don't think it was very kind of you to write those things about Freddie and Roger, it wasn't kind of _us_ to read your personal feelings. We read your private writings without your permission, so I don't think it would be fair for us to be angry if there are things written in there we don't like," chuckled Brian, scratching his head, "or maybe I'm only saying that because you only wrote very kind things about me in there. I don't know. Point is, I'm not angry with you, even if you _had_  written mean things about me. Because that's the point of a diary."

     Although John still felt really bad and insanely guilty for what he wrote about Roger and Freddie, Brian was technically right. He was entitled to write however he was feeling in the journal, and Roger and Freddie wouldn't have even been angry if they had just stayed out of his personal book. But yet still, morals took over feelings in John's clouded head, and he knew he still had to, and even _wanted_  to, apologize to Freddie and Roger about what he wrote. Especially poor Roger. He's been going through some shit lately, and John was sure this situation didn't make anything worse. "Okay," John said simply, "Thank you, Brian," as he began to walk to the stairs, to Roger's room, where he assumed Roger and Freddie would be hiding for the day. But before he reached the staircase, Brian stopped him.

     "Wait, John," he said. John turned around to face Brian, "Do you like me? I- I mean, you stated it quite explicitly in your journal, b-but I wanted to confirm. I wanted to hear you, uh, confirm it, I mean."

     John clenched his eyes tightly. He _could_ deny it, but there was no point, they had already read the diary he had made it quite clear that he was in love with Brian Harold May. "Yeah, I do. I'm sorry," he turned around, beginning to head upstairs, but Brian had ran to the bottom of the staircase, stopping him yet again.

     "Wait," he called up the stairs, John turning around again, "I like you too."

     John couldn't help but gasp loudly. That was the last reaction he would have expected from Brian. "You _do_?" He beamed. Although he was still sad about his situation with Freddie and Roger, hearing that his long term crush liked him back made him grin from ear to ear.

     "Yeah," Brian smiled back up at him, "I do."

     "Okay," John grinned, excitedly, "Okay. I'm gonna go..." he gestured towards Roger's bedroom door, "...You know, and then I'll be right back down."

     "Okay. Then can we talk after?" Brian replied.

     "Okay," John giggled like a schoolgirl with a crush, "I mean- yeah, we can talk after."

     "Okay," Brian giggled in response.   
  
     "Okay."

     " _Go_!" Brian genuinely laughed, shooing John up the stairs.

     " _Okay_!" John laughed back, loudly, running up the stairs. He still felt a nervous pit in his stomach when he approached the door, with a homemade sign on it that said, _Roger's room, Keep out or die_! each letter in a different font style probably cut out from various magazines, and a very well-drawn skull taped underneath it. He gulped before knocking on the door. The response was dead silence for a few seconds, before finally, he heard a,

     "Fuck off!"

     John frowned, knocking again. "Roger, I know you're pissed at me," he started, turning around to find Brian waiting hopefully at the bottom of the staircase, "and you have every right to be. Just please let me in. I wanna talk."

     "Well, we don't want to talk to you because we're loud, obnoxious, and horrible. Go talk to Mr. Perfect!"

     "I've already spoken with him. Besides, I think I owe you and Freddie an apology. Especially you, Rog. Please?" He put his ear to the door for a few more seconds and was about to give up at the silence that was his response, until he heard the _click-click_! of the door unlocking and soon opening, a small blonde with a puffy, tear-stained face staring up at him.

     "Make it quick," Roger snapped.

     John entered the dark hell that was Roger's bedroom, to find Freddie sitting on Roger's small twin-sized bed, head in his hands. John took a seat in Roger's weird little spiny-chair that he had lying around, and Roger hissed, "I didn't say you could sit there." John immediately got up from the chair and just stood straight. "I was joking," Roger snorted, and John relaxed, sitting back down.

     "I just want to start by saying... Well... I sincerely apologize. It wasn't right for me to say those things about you, even if they were in private. I was technically talking shit behind your backs, and not only was it not cool, but it was an untrue exaggeration of how silly you two can be. I want you both to know, that I don't actually feel that way about you anymore, I was only feeling that way when I had wrote it down. I really don't want this to be an issue, so I hope you can both forgive me. And you, Roger," John said, turning to Roger, "You didn't deserve that. I shouldn't have said that about you. At all. Especially after we had our talk, that was a really shitty thing for me to do."

     Roger looked like he had calmed down, and he sat there, on his tiny twin bed next to Freddie, just listening to everything John had to say. Freddie looked up at John too, looking a bit less sad. "I'm still mad at you," started Roger, "But I don't want this to be a big thing. It hurt, yeah, but I want it over with. So I've decided to forgive you."

     "Ditto," Freddie smiled.

 _Wow_ , John thought to himself, _that was easy._  "Are you sure? I really am sorry, about everything, and I-"

     "Just shut up," Roger said, lifting himself off the bed and crashing into John, wrapping his arms around his torso. Freddie soon followed after, joining the hug, and all three boys hugged together.

     "I can't believe you two are forgiving me so easily. I- I- I mean, the things I _said_  about you. I don't deserve either of you, really."

     "All I know is that it's done and over with. Okay? We forgive you, just, please don't let it happen again. You really hurt Roger," Freddie assured.

     "Okay. And again, I'm sorry Rog. Thank you, for forgiving me. Oh and look," John said, holding up his diary in his hand. He walked over to Roger's paper shredder and removed the metal spiral-thingy binding the book together, and then removed the hardcover from the book, and then put the rest, you guessed it, down the shredder. He watched as all of his entries to Gwen, good and bad, nice and mean, shredded itself to tiny little pieces. Into nothing. Freddie wooted and Roger just watched, with a smile on his face.

     "You didn't have to do that, John," Roger said, shaking his head.

     "Oh, but I wanted to," John said. "Thank you, for giving me a second chance. I won't be needing this!" He threw the metal spiral and the hardcover into the trash can sitting by Roger's bedroom door, before standing up straight, hands on his hips.

     "Hey," Freddie gasped, "You said you talked to Brian? How did _that_  go?"

     " _Ooooh_ " Roger _ooooed_ , raising his eyebrows up an down.

     "Well, uh," John blushed, smiling widely, "He knows I love him now."

     " _And_?" Freddie demanded, growing impatient, "What did he say?"

     "He likes me back," John sighed, shyly putting his face in his hands, "We're supposed to talk after I'm done talking to you to, but I don't know what to say, or do. I'm so-"

     "Go fucking talk to him!" Freddie screeched, " _Go!_  Get out!" Roger began to push John out of the bedroom and into the upstairs hallway, where John could look down and see Brian patiently waiting on the couch at the bottom of the stairwell.

     "You've got this," Roger edged John on.

     "Here's a mint," Freddie added, handing Deacy a mint. John confidently took it and popped it into his mouth. But all of that confidence was gone when his foot touched the last bottom stair, and he was facing _Brian May for real_  this time.

     "Hi," John said timidly.

     "Hi," Brian replied in the same shy tone. "Come sit next to me?" It sounded more like a question, but John nervously sat down on the couch next to Brian. "So, you really do like me?"

     "Yes," said John, hiding his face in his hands.

     "I like you too," responded Brian, smiling.

     "I know," John said, face still in hands, "we established this earlier."

     "I know, I'm sorry, I just- I don't know what to say. I'm nervous John, you make me nervous."

     The two boys sat in awkward silence for a few minutes until Brian cleared his throat and removed John's hand's from his face, holding them in his own. He let go of one of John's hands to nudge John's chin upward, until John was facing him. Their faces were just inches apart, the tips of their noses touching, and Brian asked sweetly, "John, will you be my boyfriend?"

     Deacy just stared in utter shock, not knowing what to say. He just nodded his head, really fast, _nod-nod-nod-nod-nod_. Brian smiled big, letting go of John's hands and putting his hands on John's waist, pulling him closer, nuzzling his face into the crook of John's neck. "Bri," John sighed dreamily, wrapping his own arms around Brian's neck, "I love you." Brian pulled back a little to look John in the eye, his own eyes wide as saucers.

     "You do?" is all Brian could ask.

     "Yes, I do," John replied happily.

     "I love you too," Brian replied, moving his face closer to John's. John panicked, knowing what was about to happen. Brian's face was just centimeters away from John's, and Brian moved his thumb to John's lower lip, parting them, before their lips connected in a sweet chaste kiss.

     "Woo! Yeah, go Deacy!" Freddie cheered from the top of the stairs, where him and Roger watched Brian and John's kiss happen.

     "Oh my god, how long have you been watching us?" Brian asked, embarrassed, wrapping himself around John and pulling the smaller man closer protectively.

     "Not long, I promise," Freddie winked. John just giggled, followed by Brian, then Freddie cackled _loudly_  and Roger fell to the floor, rolling hysterically.

***

     John yawned, having just woke up the day after the whole incident with his diary. He wanted so badly to write about everything that had happened, but he shredded the book the day before. He looked down next to him at the naked, curly-haired boy sleeping in his bed soundly and smiled to himself, remembering all the details of the lovely thing that had happened to him for the very first time the night before. Hopping out of bed, he forgot he had nothing on and quickly grabbed his bathrobe, wrapping it around himself.

     When he turned to what he was finally looking for, his stack of books and papers for school, he grabbed a blank sheet of loose leaf paper and a pen, writing,

 _Dear Gwen_ ,

     ...And then he crumbled the paper up and threw it away. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been with me on this strange journey with Gwen, and to everyone who has read this and has been reading this for months and has been anticipating each new chapter update!! I love you all, and I may or may not be planning on a new fic soon, so stay tuned!! (;


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